Posted: Tuesday, June 5, 2012 9:35:15 PM
I am merely a product of an electronic generation, birthed into fascinating technology and forever trapped within its claws. Or at least that’s what society assumes when they look at me. A childhood of playing Gameboy, X-Box, and watching endless hours of television is all they can assume from my childhood. I did own a gameboy and I did indeed love watching Rocket Power, Cat Dog, and Spongebob but more than anything, I spent my time outside, exploring and creating the imagination that molds my life today.
At the small, seemingly now infinitesimal age of six my sister and I decided to create our own Walden, even though we had no idea who Thoreau was, nor did we care. Adventurous and yearning for independence we would pack makeshift lunches of sloppy peanut butter sandwiches and clementines. We would throw on our little rain boots, forgetting socks, and head into the woods that sat behind our house. We would tromp through weeds and mud and sticks for what felt like hours until we reached the destination-which ended up being relatively close to our house. A small patch of bare soft earth sat, scarce of trees and deep with that dirty, soft smell. My sister and I plunged our hands into the velvety earth, smoothing the ground to create our perfect base. Our location had been chosen. All we needed, we decided, was cement-like mud and logs. In our naive and blissful minds, we thought that we would have a full blown log cabin by the end of the week. The mud was easy to find. A creek flowed nearby that was full of grey clunky clay which we scooped and squished within our short plump fingers. With a SPLAT we threw the hunks of clay into a bucket and carried it back to the spot. For days we searched for logs until finally we found the ultimate source. Tucked away in the wilderness of the forest was a perfect pyramid of symmetrically shaped logs. The idea that we were smuggling firewood never entered our minds until years passed. To us, it was just a lucky find in which we reveled in.
Needless to say, our log cabin was never built to completion and does not sit within the forest of our childhood. However, the memory and lessons we learned from those woods will never leave us. Nature molded my childhood, my imagination, and my ambition. Perhaps the issue within our society is not an overabundance of technology, but a lack of nature. As I grew into the stages of young adulthood I watched as the woods that I spent my childhood in were hacked down for new, big, ugly, perfect houses. We said good-bye to the blackberry field where we would collect for hours, good-bye to the creek that we would stand by with nets, and good-bye to the trees that sheltered and nurtured us as we ran the extents of our imaginations.