A Real Life by Dawn Woods

3rd

by Dawn Woods

*He called it a disorder, and he meant it.

They want outlets for cables and cords supported by dependable, electric currents. Dark bedrooms, with chargers pumping the glow of screens. Stale air, robotic noises, and the ping of another notification.

Not us. We explored goldenrod fields just beyond the property line. We found soft stones to skip on the reservoir. We were on the hunt, always, for turtles, goose eggs, and signs of deer nearby.

It’s true. We really did rake a pile of leaves to jump into before setting it on fire.

We really did set traps, with long strings leading to steady fingers. We hid behind the bush to see what bird we could catch, only to set it free.

We really did chase fireflies before stretching out on the cold ground under shooting stars… competing with each other to find Orion’s Belt.

We really did build a fort out of weed-entangled posts from an old, discarded split-rail fence.

We really did design a secret room in the loft of the barn, with whatever we could haul up the ladder, as bats flapped and darted above us...

We really did get called back indoors by a cowbell on the side porch, where we stocked the wood pile for winter.

We really did stay out in the cold for hours, and ride our bikes on the frozen lake, engulfed in the silence of the snow.

No one knew where we were. No one tracked us.

We imagined stories and scenarios and we lived them. We daydreamed, and then we tried it. We explored in real time… the wind, rain, snow, and sunshine against our faces. We smelled the dirt, and tasted the stem of the honeysuckle flower.

No one could diagnose us

with Nature Deficit Disorder. There were no plastic playgrounds restricted by code. We didn’t lock our bedroom doors streaming Netflix in the dark.

We felt the ground under our bare feet, and tasted blackberries off the bush. We lived out our days in the wonder of the earth while our bedrooms sat vacant waiting to give us deep rest and dreams of the sun rising, awakening us again to live.

August 16, 2020

* Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods, The Nature Principle, and Our Wild Calling