Written in 2011
Biophilia, our innate affinity for and connection with nature. I have always had a strong fascination with nature. As a child I could spend hours watching the activity on an ant hill. I loved to catch fireflies in a jar and sneak them into my bedroom and let them go so I could watch their magic flashing until I tumbled off to sleep. My Mom had to wonder why there were so many bugs in my room. I would leave the porch door open in the morning, and they seemed to find their way out on their own.
Growing up an Iowa farm boy, I loved going barefoot to the far corner of our farm to bring the cows home to milk. I would watch the Upland Sandpipers and Plovers land on the fence posts with their wings over their heads before they would delicately fold them up and tuck them in to their sides. The Bobolinks I called bumble bee birds. The songs of the Western Meadowlarks were sweet music to my ears. Morning Doves and pheasants would add to the symphony. Those were good days.
Almost every farm had milk cows who needed pasture and hay ground. We had our own oat field for grain and straw livestock bedding. We had big gardens and lots of chickens and pasture breed hogs. The farmstead grove had lots of grackles, robins, morning doves, and seldom seen but nightly heard screech owls.
I would dance with excitement in the pounding rain of June thunderstorms. I would wade in ephemeral road ditch pools and catch tadpoles, frogs, and even a few mudpuppies. There was no end to the grand outdoor show nature put on every day.
In the man versus nature saga, we have lost too many things. But in other ways we have made significant gains.
Rodney Schmidt Legacy 