ADK or ABC?

            Upon the arrival of the Walden family, I was reminded of how much I appreciate a child’s perspective of the world. Sometimes I try to remember what my daily thoughts were when I was 6 or 7, but I don’t usually come up with much. In part, it’s a romanticization of simpler days, when I was more concerned with spelling my name correctly or getting away with eating the maximum amount of cookie batter before my mother noticed, as opposed to essays and applications, the occasional lost wallet. Maybe a child’s worries are simpler ones, but I imagine it’s more of a constant stream of questions. Why are you doing that? But why? What does that thing do? Why is it that color? What makes you think I want to eat that?

            It’s also striking how child-like one feels when at the mercy of our natural surroundings. The panic when lost in the woods is much like not being able to find a parent in the supermarket. The natural world is adept at making humans feel small, if not completely insignificant, a feeling not unfamiliar to a child who is physically smaller and usually less mature than his or her adult guardians.  

            Dave’s son, Matthew (age 4), was asking me a few questions on the way to dinner.

“Amelia, why do people come to live here?

- Just look at all the colors on the trees, aren’t they beautiful?

- *sigh* Yes, it’s like a rainbow out there.” 

             I could not have come up with a better response myself. As some of our first readings of the semester pointed out, the natural world has the ability to make us see through the eyes of a child. Although Matthew’s observation had nothing to do with finding boyhood hunting in the great outdoors, it did remind me to let myself be as curious as he was. My thoughts here are so often questions, not altogether different from Matthews’. Sure, I may know a bit more about the Bicknell thrush than your average person, but I have no idea why mountains are so breathtaking, why the weather does what it does, and I could probably only name a few species that live here off the top of my head. It’s an eye-opening experience, and although I could easily feel foolish, I find that instead I’m just frustrated that I don’t have more eyes, ears, and room in my brain for the answers to all of my questions.