When I was a kid, my dad took me out scalloping one summer in the Gulf of Mexico, off the coast of northwest Florida. It was just he and I, and we had a ball hunting, Easter egg style, for the turquoise-eyed bivalves amid the muck and seaweed. I've always been cautious--perhaps unreasonably so--of "big things" (read: sharks) lurking in the watery depths, and so I kept a watchful eye for anything that could conceivably ingest me as I bobbed along.
At one point during our search, a seemingly benign patch of mud suddenly lifted off the ground like a levitating placemat; my fright nearly ejected me from the water, and I landed on my dad's back where I hovered like a baby whale.
I eventually regained my composure, realizing the phantom was probably just a stingray. My dad and I carried on without further interruption and reaped a fruitful harvest. It was a day I'll never forget.
It's hard not to enjoy the great outdoors, but sharing it with someone older--like a father who doubles as a shield when nature gets fierce--is particularly enlivening. For more proof, take a look at the annual "" contest entries. An intergenerational photo, essay, and poetry competition hosted by the EPA's , , and the , the contest just goes to show how fascination with wilderness transcends age and brings people closer together. Go online now and for your favorite entry. Also, keep an eye out for the results of ÃÛèÖAPP's first-ever , which accepted both adult and youth submissions.
And speaking of intergenerational nature buffs, check out ÃÛèÖAPP's "," by Jennifer Weeks, about a grandmother-grandson birding team, as well as "," by Jane Braxton Little, which tracks a teenager as he and his parents bike across the U.S. in search of new additions to his life list.