We started venturing out into the great outdoors—as a brave unit of three, naked of sunscreen, bug spray and expectations—about a week or so ago. My internal GPS was already set to the location. I knew our first destination/adventure/experiment would be the beautiful grounds of Maudslay State Park in Newburyport, where the trails are wide and winding, rock-covered and tree-lined. The paths wrap around like dropped twine so you easily find yourself back where you started, or pretty close. But if you’re lucky, you take a wrong turn or two and end up in the garden where many couples come to be married … or on the edge of the rolling Merrimac River.
It’s funny. I actually wrote a story about Maudslay for our local paper a couple of years back. I had toured the grounds with Donna Sudak, the park’s animated and adoring interpreter, and learned the history of the site. What I walked away with that evening was the sense that this great space was a protected, lovingly cared for state park whose greatest gift is the surprising natural and man-made landscaping throughout. For instance, right now, the rhododendrons are in bloom and the bushes grow like fences of purple starbursts that are bigger than your head. So to come back with a new mission was an exciting thing.
When we first set foot on the path, I was pleased Henry and Sadie moved happily and peacefully along at their own paces, with me sometimes yards behind watching them. No one complained about walking too much or about the humidity that day. No one ran scared of the dragon fly that hovered and bounced with us as we strolled, or the giant clumsy bumble bees that bumped right into us then darted away. In fact, Henry walked at a slow and steady silent stride, while Sadie stopped here and there to fill her fists with pebbles or say “hi” to a sparrow. Before long, we came upon a stretch that was pock-marked with puddles from the previous night’s rain. Fortunately, we had on our boots! I wanted to allow the children to choose their own adventures so I just walked past the puddles. Of course, they did not; and how could they?!
They stood together at the edge of the most tantalizing and deep puddle in sight and slowly touched the tips of their boots to the muddy water. Then they kind of lifted and dropped their feet just a little. I sat down in the grass and simply said, “Go ahead.” I knew this would be the stopping place for the day. Within a few minutes, Sadie had walked right through the muck and begun tossing in her rocks, talking a lot of excited baby gibberish, and desperately searching for the same exact rocks she had thrown in (and finding them!). Henry had collected sticks calling them “power” sticks and begun making swirls, splashes and figure eights in the water. Then, he’d said something only Henry could say at that moment: “Mom, how does water make electricity?”
I wasn’t surprised in the least at his leap of thought and I told him as best I could how water becomes energy. We talked for a good ten minutes about currents and about dams and about turbines, as he moved the stick through the water making sound effects I can only describe as P-SCHEW! (energy). He had one question after another. Rapid fire (as I am very accustomed to). But what I was not accustomed to was that the exchange—not unlike water—flowed somewhere. It moved into new areas of thought. A bigger picture! We didn’t get stuck discussing the “why” or “why not” one family has Comcast while another has DirectTV (which really has quite a long list of variables), or why Sony has a division dedicated solely to children’s films, or debating why he is too young to have his own password for the App store … all carousel questions for us.
No. This was a conversation we were both very much engaged in. This was a connection between the two of us, between us and nature, between lost and found. And the transference of our typical “why” to something so wonderful was a moment to remember. Not just because it had broken a pattern, but because I was reminded I was in the presence of a beautiful, capable and ready mind. A mind that I am very happy and proud to say belongs to my son.
We visited EIA Energy Kids to learn more about Hydropower before bed that night. You can, too: http://www.eia.gov/kids/energy.cfm?page=hydropower_home-basics.
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