To Be a Grasshopper

I've been a tree hugger since an early age. My backyard was a forest of pine... old stumps became kitchen sinks, chunks of moss made a velvety carpet under my toes, and blankets and dolls were dragged across the crumbly forest floor as I set up house amongst the towering turrets.

If I wasn't in the trees, I was edging the pond, capturing tadpoles to bring home as pets, anxious to see if tiny legs would sprout and fish would turn to frog.

Oh, and the caterpillars and ladybugs. How I adored these creatures...feeling so protective as I gave them new jar homes and fed them grass and clover...even if the caterpillars never morphed into butterflies before I set them free and the ladybugs eventually flew away...I enjoyed their short stay, and hoped that they appreciated my hospitality.

How comforting it is to know that even now, as a big kid, I can still plant myself in the middle of a meadow and be consumed with my simple surroundings for an hour or more and not realise how much time has passed. My toys might be more expensive, as camera lenses and tripods have replaced Cabbage Patch dolls and plastic dishes. But the time spend in nature, the fueling of the imagination, and the simple bliss of an uncomplicated afternoon makes me feel like a child again.