Outdoor Kids in an Inside World: Getting Your Family Out of the House and Radically Engaged with Nature

Part of our job, then, as parents, is to teach our kids to deal with the impermanence of these connections. When Katie and I got our kids their first pet, a brilliantly purple betta fish, we viewed it as being a lesson in death and loss (bettas only live a few years) as much as a lesson in caretaking.

In his 1993 memoir The Thunder Tree, ecologist Robert Pyle coined the term “extinction of experience,” and since then many researchers have jumped into the fray. There are bodies of work on the demonstrable decline of kids’ contact with nature, as well as the negative impacts of this trend—most alarmingly captured in Richard Louv’s 2005 Last Child

Like it or not, nature is out there. It cannot be ignored. You can live in fear of it, which is no fun and does little good. Or you can respect and admire it, which opens you up to glimpses of magic.

Until the moment I became a father, I never felt truly and absolutely responsible for anyone. Becoming a parent is an epiphany: You’re up! As part of my responsibilities to my children, I knew that I was wholly responsible for teaching them everything I knew about being a human who feels at home in nature.

biophilia hypothesis suggests that humans

What birds visit your home habitat? Buy a bird identification book and install a birding app on your phone. (The Sibley Guide to Birds is a phenomenal book; the region-specific Eastern and Western North America books are even better. For apps, try eBird, which was created by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology.)

Considering all this—our desire for connections, the impermanence of those connections, and our impulse to prepare our kids for an unpredictable and unwieldy life—it feels imperative that we foster strong bonds between our kids and nature. As creatures of the earth, we are inherently and intrinsically connected to the natural world. This world is d

Observing nature requires quiet contemplation. The practice of studying nature is calming.

I do still suffer guilt for not having taken greater precautions to protect my son from Lyme disease. We were lax about insect repellent that day and I hadn’t tucked his pants legs into his socks to prevent ticks from crawling out of the grass and up his legs. I didn’t check him thoroughly when we got home. That goes for myself, too. In many ways,