Sunday Spark: Spring Break
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As our Spring Break comes to a close today, I'm looking back with fondness on a week that we didn't really go anywhere, butwe had a grand time all the same - relaxing, witnessing the many Spring flowers in bloom, planting and finding geocaches, and just enjoying tons of family time. Okay, yes, and enduring the stomach bug too (fortunately, that passed quickly). And with today's weather in the 80's, the kids put up a lemonade stand (They made $3.75!!). I hope your Spring break was as agreeable as ours (less the intestinal flu). Happy Spring!

Lemonade stand and chalk drawing in April!

Clematis in our front garden, in nearly full bloom!

Swinging...

Iris in our front yard. So quickly they come & go...

One of many geocaches we found this week!

Ah, tulips - the sure sign of Spring!

Serious egg-dying at Grandma's house.

Eggs on the lawn after the fifth or six hide & seek game.

Fetching a ball from the pond.

The stunning beauty of nature & why I love New Jersey - the pines.
Wordless Wednesday: Spring Awakening
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Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn.
~Lewis Grizzard
Yesterday was the first day of Spring - the equinox - the moment when the sun crosses directly over our earth's equator - a time when day and night are equal in length. It's a time of awakening, balance, renewal, promise.
The turning of the seasons grounds me. Spring, after the cold and bare of Winter, is always so welcome, necessary, a gladly received reminder and assurance of time and life continuing. Even after this, the most mild of Winters I can remember in New Jersey, I still was grateful to see that first daffodil poking up through the soil several weeks ago.

My heart lightened. And, each day since then I have anxiously searched my garden for signs of new life, never to be disappointed - as Mother Nature delivers new wonders with each moment.

The weather has been so bright, and the sun so warm this week, that we've all been outside as much as possible; taking in the new season, breathing Spring and all it's wonderous new life... awakening.
Wake. Breathe. Start fresh, as each moment in your life is as new as the Spring buds on the trees. Happy Spring, readers!

Nature, Technology, and Being Human
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Teaching children about the natural world should be seen as one of the most important events in their lives.
~Thomas Berry (The Dream of the Earth)
In late August, early September, we went to Maine for a week. I didn’t really blog much about it at the time; but, more on that later. While on that trip, at the base of Mount Washington, actually, I came across a book called, Last Child in the Woods. Though I didn’t end up buying it, I did thumb through it a bit, and added it to my “to read” list. It caught my attention because it draws on a point I make to myself, and worry over, frequently as a parent; particularly as a parent raising children in a condo in the most densely populated state of the United States. That point is: Are our children, and are WE, as humans, getting so far removed from nature, and so dependent on technology, that we’re… damaging ourselves?

(my kids, digging by the lake in Maine)
I don’t mean just physical damage like carpel tunnel syndrome or losing muscle tone or gaining weight from so many hours in front of the computer (though those are important, too). I mean more that we’ve evolved WITH nature – for thousands, millions of years – and it’s only been in the last couple of centuries – particularly the last couple of decades where we’ve left our codependency with nature in favor of codependency with technology. Televisions, video games, computers, cars, smartphones... Our food is techno-fied, our travel is techno-fied, even our books are techno-fied. I feel like in our day-to-day lives, we’re really losing touch with our earth; we’re emotionally disconnected from nature; that must have an effect on how we ARE.
I’m not anti-technology. Far from it, being that I’m here writing this on my laptop, to be published on my blog, which I’ll read on my iPhone, which is up on the internet; which is also the home of our retail websites (which are our livelihood as a family). And, once finished writing this, I will very likely hop on my treadmill, to be followed by viewing a movie on Netflix. Heck, I’m far from being anti-technology; I love technology.
But I also love the earth. I vividly remember playing in the grass and the sand and the trees and the dirt as a kid. Hours spent in the garden, and just being outside in the summertime, the Spring, the Fall, and even the Winter. As a young kid, we were outside all. the. time. (Until, of course, my parents caved, and finally bought a Nintendo. I spent a lot more time indoors after, say, 1986 or so. Still, I rode my bike to school.)
It’s different for my children. Of course, I want to believe they too love the earth. In the Spring, Summer, and Fall, we go hiking as much as we can, and we tend towards nature-loving vacations, when we take them. We container garden in the Summer, and visit the Farmer’s Market on the weekends. But, in spite of that, the reality for my children is that there has never been Life Without Cellphones. They know how to turn on their computer, open a browser and surf the internet. They know how many “friends” I have on Facebook. (And how many their dad and grandmother have, too). We’ve never had a newspaper delivered. I’m not sure they’ve ever seen a payphone in person, nor had to wait for film to be developed. Email, online, download, Twitter, blog – all of these words are seamlessly part of their lexicon.
I think it’s easy as adults who have grown up with a mix of nature & technology, to feel okay about our own children having simple access to technology. Afterall, we grew up on Sesame Street and Walkmen, and Ataris, and we’re okay, right? At times, I find it effortless – and fascinating – as adults, who are ourselves immersed in technology, to watch our children so easily adapt to computers, internet, iPhones. But I am afraid in that ease, we forget that as kids ourselves, we really were outside. A LOT. And when we were outside, we were out there without cellphones. That outside time, that meshing with and growing up in nature, was important. Feeling grass on our feet, dirt under our nails, sun on our shoulders (without even sunscreen, OMG), tree bark against our legs as we climbed… that was necessary. All that time outside wasn’t useless, wasn’t just getting us out from under our mothers’ feet, it was teaching us about this earth from where we came, and where we’ll return. The smells of the earth, the rain, the plants, helped to develop our senses. The sun helped set our internal clock (not to mention made sure our vitamin D levels were on the right track – without supplements, OMG). Getting lost, then finding our way home, without GPS, helped us learn to rely on ourselves, to pay attention to our surroundings in order to orient ourselves. “Going out to play” helped us meet people, learn how to make friends, play games, share, make up rules, win, lose. I knew where food came from because we had a garden, and we got any produce we didn’t grow from the local farm; the grocery store was a much less-frequented destination. It’s just different for our kids.

(my kids, exploring the trees in the woods in New Jersey)
Anyhow, back to Maine, for a moment, and then, I’ll close up my thoughts. We drove up to Maine in the wake of Hurricane Irene. It was the clearest I’ve ever seen 95 – there was hardly a soul on the road – it was the fastest we’ve made it through New York City, ever. Upon arriving at our cabin, we realized that Irene had taken out the electricity on our road. We spent the next five days of our vacation without electricity or running water. Which also meant: No lights. And… no computers. Also, no alarm clocks (though I woke with the sunrise every morning). No microwaves. No movies. We bathed in the lake water and cooked over a fire. We read books and played board games in the evening by candlelight. We sang and roasted marshmallows around the campfire before bed. And during the day, we went swimming, canoeing, hiking, exploring, and just playing outside. All day. Until the sun went down. While I can’t say I wasn’t grateful when the electricity finally came back on the day before we were set to leave, it was mostly because I got to actually flush the toilet and wash my face with hot water, NOT because I could turn on my computer and update my blog (okay, though I did do that). Adam and I, and the kids, say this was our best vacation yet. I can’t help but believe it’s because we all FELT SOMETHING we’d been missing – that full-on connection with nature, that we don’t really ever get anymore in our technology-dependent lives, at least not in such large doses as we experienced that week.
Richard Louv, the author of Last Child in the Woods, says, “biologically we are still hunters and gatherers and we need, at some level we don't fully understand, direct involvement in nature. We need to see natural shapes in the horizon. And when we don't get that, we don't do so well.”
I want my children to have that direct involvement in nature. I want to get back to that myself. I think it’s imperative.
In the neighborhood where we are, and in this climate of high-technology, it’s just. so. tempting. (and easy) to occupy ourselves virtually. But the more I read about so-called nature deficit disorder (I just recently read a great article about it this past week in Newsweek), the more time I spend away from nature, the more I realize we NEED to get back to the natural world. We ALL need to take more hikes. We ALL need to plant more gardens. We ALL need to take the more challenging route, and close our laptops for a while, put our cellphones down, and get out in the woods. It isn’t just to avoid turning into Wall-E-type humans living just for the next techo-fied meal and virtual shopping experience, it’s to continue to BE human. We’re a part of nature, we always have been, and need to keep that bond alive, in order to survive, and thrive.
Do you find yourself connected with nature? How do you – and your children – stay in touch with the natural world?
Sunday Spark: Hiking in the Woods
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When Adam asked me what I’d like to do for my birthday, naturally, I said I’d like to go for a hike.

(Leaves had fallen all along the trail... beautiful!)
We’ve been hiking together for 17 years. I’ve hiked through two pregnancies, hiked with a newborn, hiked when the snow was up to my hips and when the wind blew so hard and cold that the water was freezing in my drinking water line, hiked when the mosquitoes have bitten my ankles til they’re swollen. Together we’ve woken with the sun, put a tent up in the dark, and the rain, hiked on the Appalachian Trail, in Canada, Mexico, and several US states, and have carried everything we needed for days on our backs. Our children have been along with us for much of the journey. So when we say we’re going hiking – they shout joyously: WHEN!! It warms my heart to see how much they love the woods, too.
See, nature is my second language. When I’m out in the woods, everything is clear, right, and okay. We could be cold; it’s okay. We could be lost; it’s okay. We could be tired; it’s okay. The energy of the trees, the synergy between sun, air, ground, plants, animals, humans… the world is condensed, tangible, reachable, when you’re in the woods. There aren't any hard, fast schedules, no expectations, no limits. Everything seems possible, and life, perfect.

(Starting off up the AT)
Yesterday, as usual, nature didn’t disappoint! We chose a circuit trail at the Delaware Water Gap, on the Pennsylvania side – a favorite spot since it’s not too far a drive for us, and the elevation increase from base to peak isn’t too great, so the incline is gentle – perfect for hikes with children.

(View across the gap - Mt. Tammany straight ahead, Mt. Minsi to the right)
We climbed Mount Minsi this time, which was a gentle incline on a mostly clear, not-too-narrow, and well-marked part of the AT. We crossed streams, past a couple of ponds and rocky outcroppings, and were treated to several beautiful views of the gap. At the top, Mt. Minsi opens up to a glorious view of Mount Tammany – still very green, as you can see!

(View of Mt. Tammany from the top of Mt. Minsi)
We’ve hiked Mt. Tammany with the kids in the past; it was a slightly shorter loop. The Minsi loop we chose was a ~4.25 miler up the Appalachian Trail, and down a fire lane. It was a beautiful Fall day, warm, bright, the leaves starting to fall – it was absolutely perfect for a day hike.

(Heading down the fire lane)
I hope you had a lovely weekend, and are enjoying the Fall. If you hike with your family, tell me about your favorite hiking spot - I'd love to hear!