Groundhogs & Grandpa - a legacy of curiosity

Today is Groundhog Day. Every year it brings vivid memories of my grandfather. I give him a lot of the credit for my lifelong fascination with the natural world. Although I'm pretty sure I was just born curious & outdoorsy, he did much to really bring it out of me. When I was a kid I often spent a few weeks staying with him and Grandma during summer vacation. They lived in a 150 year old house on several acres at the edge of the suburbs. Oh, how I loved going to stay with them! To me, it was a kingdom to explore. There was a small creek running through the middle of the property and Grandpa had built a little wooden bridge over it. Beyond the bridge he mostly let things alone, so it was brambly and overgrown there, with a small woods. I spent countless happy days roaming through this mini paradise, making forts and castles with branches and building little dams in the creek. Grandpa showed me how to flip over stones in the creek to find crayfish and answered the typical thousand questions a kid can come up with.

There was a groundhog burrow by the creek, and Grandpa spent hours in front of the hole, sitting motionless on a lawn chair holding rye crackers until finally he tamed the groundhog. I can't say how long it took him to win the critter's confidence; it seemed to me at the time that it had always been that way. I can never forget going out to the burrow with him to feed it. He did his best to get me to sit quiet and still in my lawn chair, cracker in my outstretched hand. And I did it! I was ecstatic when the groundhog slowly came towards me, took the cracker, and then sat there in front of us nibbling away. Somehow the local newspaper became aware of Grandpa's tame groundhog and did a little piece on it. Grandpa cut it out of the paper and hung it over his desk in the kitchen. I have the article now. I framed it and put it over my desk and I smile every time I look at it:

 

 

 

                                                      Thank you, Grandpa


I can recall every detail of those days - the dry and tasteless rye crackers ( of course I tried them! ) and the maroon metal cigar tin in which they were kept on the screened porch railing. The hollow sound my feet made on the old wood floor when I ran across the porch to get the tin. Grandpa telling me to calm down and be patient... One time we were out there by the burrow at dusk when I was startled by a sudden noise overhead in the trees. I was scared, but he explained to me that it was a screech owl, it wasn't going to bother me, that was just its call, it was looking for mice, etc. I settled back down in my chair, absorbing my newfound owl knowledge.

Grandpa also made apple cider. There were two ancient drooping Baldwin apple trees in the yard which yielded bushel baskets of sweet and tangy fruit. He had a cider press and would sit in his trusty lawn chair out by the porch, pressing and straining. Honeybees and yellowjackets would be hovering around him in a cloud and crawling on his arms. I was alarmed at first until he once again exerted his influence over me, teaching me to be quiet and patient and enjoy nature. He told me that if I didn't swat at them and hurt them, they wouldn't hurt me; they were just looking for food, and if I held still they would just crawl around tickling me and licking up the sweet juice. He was right of course. I actually held out my hand and let a bee crawl on it. I always think of that, too, now that we are beekeepers.

I also must give some recognition to my grandmother ( on my dad's side ) for my appreciation of nature. Granny had bird feeders on her back porch, and I would stand at the window with her, watching the birds as she explained to me what each bird was. The winter wind would be making the hanging feeders sway while we were toasty warm in the kitchen with the little potbelly stove. In summer she told me stories about "Jenny Wren" as we watched house wrens darting in & out of the birdhouses on the fence posts. One summer she pointed out an oriole nest to me, hanging high in the maple tree by the driveway. Their house was out in the country surrounded by cornfields. She told me tales of wandering the fields and picking berries. It was another little paradise to me and I spent hours in those fields. One time I found a ring-necked pheasant nest and was totally smitten by the clutch of beautiful greenish-brown eggs. I took one and kept it as a souvenir. In retrospect, Granny should have made me put it back; maybe she suggested that and I resisted; I can't remember. Anyway, I saved the egg and brought it home with me. Then I took it to school for show and tell. I do remember that. How could I forget it?!  I had an old egg in a baggie in my bookbag. You can guess what happened... I proudly brought it out & plopped it on my desk, where it exploded and funked up the whole room with an awful stench. The teacher had to open the windows... luckily I was only in 3rd grade, so my embarrassment wasn't too traumatic. Served me right for egg stealing!

 I still enjoy exploring, patiently observing any creature I find, flipping over rocks in creeks to find crayfish and salamanders, and peeking into bird nests. When I was a kid I made countless collections of feathers, shells, dead bugs, rocks, bones - you name it & I had it glued to cardboard and labeled. Nowadays I take photos instead. Well, I do tend to keep interesting rocks. And bones, mostly skulls. Okay, I have a hummingbird nest too. But mostly photos.

                                                        the hummingbird nest


So I'm very grateful to Grandpa and Granny for instilling in me a wonder and curiosity for the outdoors. Their legacy has given me a lifetime of enjoyment. It also illustrates how powerful the little things can be. My grandparents didn't spend a lot of money on me, but they did spend a lot of time. Quality time teaching me things while having fun at the same time. Now, I try to pay it forward, doing the same things with my nieces and nephews and anyone else who will listen to me. Frankly, I can't help myself!

Happy Groundhog Day!