Blue sky painted with strokes of white

Nestled within a valley of the upstate New York Mountains, my childhood began. The opportunities for grand adventures and experiences within my environment were endless. It was a small town; we knew of everyone that surrounded us in our neighborhood. As a community I remember the great care that was taken in preserving the nature beauty of our area: Protecting the creek, saving the aging trees, and allowing nature to make decisions about major land changes.

The beauty of the nature we lived among was of something out of a storybook. Every morning began with the formation of dew droplets upon every blade of grass along with the smell of cool, damp soil in the air. Our backyard creek could be heard in the distance as the fresh water rapids crashed on every rock stationed in its way. Peering through the opening of the trees above me was the wonderful gift of the sky. The clouds always seemed to float like cotton with the winds and gently paint the blue sky with strokes of white. I would lay for hours in awe of the majestic trees that would wave in the backdrop of our cloudy skies.

Each season brought its own special voyages, smells, and beauty. Every year autumn would unexpectedly swoop in and smother summer; painting each green leaf with colors that would glow shades of warmth in the sun. Winter quickly blew in its brisk temperature and rolled out its thick, white blankets of snow. Spring would poke its head through the thick of the winter-chilled snow banks with a budding tulip—one of the most incredible experiences to witness. It reminded me that there is hope for life amidst the barren, frigid, lifeless environment that surrounded us.   

I feel blessed beyond belief to have been given the opportunity to experience these moments as a child. I will never forget what an impact my environment had on my life during those years.   

"Teaching children about the natural world should be seen as one of the most important events in their lives." Thomas Berry

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