Getting back to your roots

As you may have noticed, I have a natural love for the outdoors that has been with me since childhood. As you may also have noticed if you’ve read my column much, I often write about my busy life (many of you can relate) which sometimes makes it difficult to find time for the hunting and fishing trips I typically thrive upon.

However, this summer I’ve been inspired to try to get back to some of the simpler open-air pleasures that I remember from my childhood. These activities, although often taken for granted as a kid, filled my summer days with endless delight that fostered my current passion for the great outdoors.

Over the Fourth of July holiday week, I spent a few days mowing on my parents’ land. I know, most folks taking a week of vacation wouldn’t waste their time bush-hogging.

But as I bounced along on the tractor, my mind wandered back to countless carefree days as a child when I played in the fields while my grandfather was mowing.

With my bow and arrow, I’d stalk all manner of critters that escaped the path of the tractor, or I’d catch fleeing grasshoppers to use as bait on the end of a cane pole later that evening.

For me, the repetitious hours of riding up and down the field, sweating in the hot sunshine, were just the vacation I needed.

My heart pounded only from the physical labor, not from pointless stress, and each night I slept the kind of quality sleep that you only get when you’ve worked with your body all day.

One afternoon, my parents, wife and children all joined me for a picnic—complete with a blanket, bugs, wildflowers, and a bucket of fried chicken. Three generations enjoyed dining together just the way we did on Sunday afternoons when I was a kid. Somehow fried chicken just tastes better when shared with family under the shade of an old oak tree.

We then went out for a good old-fashioned rambling drive, the kind where you point to what store used to be on that corner and discuss who’s family lived in that holler there.

Eventually, we found ourselves down at the Green River where we took a short hike down one of the trails.

With a thunderstorm threatening overhead, I caught and released three small rainbows before the storm drove us back to the Suburban.

In another recent adventure, I decided to take my kids blueberry picking.

My grandparents always grew berries when I was young and picking was a family affair, but my son had never done it before. I enjoyed showing him the basics of selecting the ripest berries and picking them gently without bruising the fruit.

That evening we all enjoyed the ‘fruits’ of our labor in the form of a blueberry dessert.

When your daily life doesn’t allow for a big outdoor sporting adventure, you can always get back to the basics and enjoy the simple pleasures of being outside in the summertime.

And that’s my holler for this week.