Grandsons’ disparate personalities are revealed on a creek day dedicated to subtle environmental lessons.
Bruce Ingram
Eli and Sam Reynolds examine the crayfish and minnows they’ve just corralled from Catawba Creek.
When I was five, a wise seven-year-old regaled me about the joys of Gish Branch, a tiny creek that flows several miles through the town where I grew up. The brook lies only about 150 yards from the house I grew up in, but to a youngster whose parents had restricted his ranging to “two doors up and down and two doors across” Forest Lawn Drive, it was an impossibly faraway destination. Made more perilous by the sure spanking I would receive if my dad discovered my disobedience.
But my wanderlust had been awakened, and one summer morning after breakfast, I fashioned a seine from a discarded window screen and sneakily and proverbially set sail on what to me seemed liked the greatest odyssey since Odysseus. Arriving at the rivulet, I entered the most thrilling world imaginable. I seined up creatures I misnamed bass, trout and perch which, in reality were merely chubs, dace and darters. I trace my love of nature and passion for the environment back to that epic journey so many decades back.
So it’s understandable that every summer I take my grandsons Sam and Eli (ages 10 and eight) down to Catawba Creek which flows through the 38 acres that Elaine and I share with their parents. I want to pass on my conservation ethic to the boys, as no better way exists to do so than actually experiencing the joys of nature.
On our most recent excursion, we deployed an actual seine and a minnow bucket to corral and examine our bounty. Upon our arrival, predictably, a prolonged dispute broke out between the boys on who would have the honor of holding the seine under water while the other kicked over rocks and disturbed the bottom on his way to the net. I settled the argument by manning the seine myself and instructing the twosome on how to drive our quarry toward me.
Also predictably, given the innate differences between any two siblings, the boys approached the task in their own individual ways. More comfortable out in nature, Eli charged toward the seine, fell down and laughed about it, stood up and pranced toward the net, sending a flurry of creatures into it. Sam seemed more concerned with keeping his pants as dry as possible, having barely rippled the surface as he cautiously inched toward me.
Nevertheless, both boys shared the same enthusiasm to quickly identify our initial haul, which consisted of a variety of minnows, sculpins and snails. I explained the importance of minnows in the food chain and how the presence of sculpins indicated that the creek possesses good water quality.
This information caused Sam to launch into a scholarly tutorial on the relevance of food chains and watersheds—the type of intellectual endeavor at which he excels. He also asked which watershed Catawba Creek was a part of, and I explained that our creek’s water flows into the James River which continues on into the Chesapeake Bay and eventually the Atlantic Ocean. I added that Granddaddy tries to do his part to preserve the watershed by never cutting trees along the creek so as to protect the riparian zone, the family’s small way of helping the wildlife that live downstream. Of course, I defined what riparian zones are and why they’re important.
Already sopping wet, Eli then volunteered to be the walker and a relieved Sam gratefully accepted the task of positioning the net. Eli’s sprint toward the seine resulted in several crawfish scooting into it. Grasping one of the mudbugs behind its head, I showed the boys how to hold this crustacean without having his fingers bitten. Imitating my actions, Eli immediately and successfully picked up another crayfish and chortled at the squirming creature. Sam deferred on the opportunity to do the same.
I treasure these summer days afield with my grandsons, and hope they will lead to the same appreciation and passion for nature that I have.
The story above first appeared in our July / August 2023 issue. For more like it subscribe today or log in with your active BRC+ Membership. Thank you for your support!