Nature

I have a difficult relationship with nature. In fact, I've often thought that the only time I'll be completely comfortable with it will be when I'm buried six feet under a bed of soft green grass, hopefully shaded by a beautiful old oak in a rolling, park-like cemetery. I like to think of kids running and playing around me, teenagers sneaking off to make-out nearby, and artists sitting on my headstone for a quiet and inspirational place to draw or write.

In the meantime, whenever I'm outside I'm terribly conscious of my surroundings, and not in a pleasant way. It's hot. It's muggy. It's cold. The sky is spitting at me. The wind is beginning to get distracting. What was that sound? Are there animals around? I'm a little afraid of pretty much every wild animal, up close. Have you seen the beak on a robin? Looks painful. Ohmigosh is that a bug?!!

You get the idea.

Still, I make an effort for my kids' sakes. I get excited by little natural discoveries, hide my fears when necessary, and even take them outside from time to time.

With mixed results. My girls enjoy being outside. And they don't seem afraid of it. But nor is Ellie particularly interested in our local fauna.

A couple of weeks ago, on our way out to the car after gymnastics, we found ourselves following a small toad.

"Ellie, look! A frog! Hopping down the sidewalk!"

The poor beast was, indeed, frantically trying to escape from us while being thwarted at every hop by an inconveniently placed retaining wall.

Ellie said, "There is is," without really looking, and lengthened her stride a little as she stepped over the toad.

Completely uninterested. Huh. Well, she was pretty tired after gymnastics.

A couple of days later, we were walking down a sidewalk next to some tall designer grasses on our way to the swimming pool.

"Oh, girls, look! A snail, right here on the sidewalk! See how he's got his shell right on his back?"

Ada was ambling over to take a look, but Ellie was closer. She reached down, plucked up the snail by its little shell, and, again without really looking, tossed it into the landscaping as she continued on her way.

Weird. Is she protecting me? Does my forced enthusiasm read as fear? Of a snail or toad? Surely not. I mean, a squirrel or dragonfly, sure. But a snail that's not even trying to touch me? Nah.