BOOK REVIEW: Last Child in the Woods

Author: Richard Louv

From the preface:

“THERE was a child went forth every day,

And the first object he look’d upon, that object he became,

And that object became part of him for the day,

or a certain part of the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child,

And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover,

and the song of the phoebe-bird,

And the Third-month lambs, and the sow’s pink-faint litter,

and the mare’s foal, and the cow’s calf…

—Walt Whitman

I like to play indoors better ‘case that’s where all the electrical outlets are.

—A fourth grader in San Diego”

And so begins Louv’s profound and disturbing book, an eye opener for the urban parent. When I first saw this book on the bookstore shelf it drew me in like a magnet. It was one of those rare finds I knew I had to read right away. I found out later that the Boston Globe agrees: “"This book is an absolute must-read for parents..." My addendum to the Globe would be, “…if you aren’t blessed to live on a greenbelt, a farm, or in the little house in the woods.”

I know no one wants yet another depressing environmental thing to worry about, but alas, this one can’t be ignored. Louv simply and elegantly presents his case. The premise: children in contemporary societies are indoors more than ever and disconnected to the kinds of nature play that their own parents took for granted. Worries regarding safety, a plugged in culture and a lack of access to wild spaces are all part of the etiology of this ‘disorder’.

Louv shows how the lack of experience with nature profoundly influences modern children, not only in their views and behaviours towards the natural world, but in their health and development. On the bright side, depression, ADD, obesity and other disorders in children can be alleviated by more immersion in natural environments. This is partially because experiences in nature (with reasonable and informed safety precautions) allow children to make complex and satisfying connections to wild spaces. And as Whitman and poets of old have always know, a child that really connects to nature will carry that sweet tie for a lifetime.

Louv writes with a spirit linked to the views of deep ecology[1], that I also relate to. For a time when I grew up, my mother decided that we should get away from it all and live up in the mountains of BC on Cariboo Lake[2]. I had never lived anywhere so remote before. We had only one neighbour: a retired Swiss trapper and his wife. No telephone. No power save that from the generator. Propane lighting. A view of the milky way unlike anything I've seen before or since. As an only child I spent most of my days running through the daisies in the long grassy yard, mucking about with the frogs in the mud by the lake, learning to spot new bird songs and species, swimming, chasing garter snakes by the stream, but never venturing too far into the deep dark woods.

Did I ever catch a tick? No. Was I ever chased by a wild animal? No. Did I get a disease from the dirt? No. I did get stung by stinging nettle once, and learned to recognize the species well enough to never be stung again. But mostly I learned things that schools try to reproduce through labs, lectures and film, but are never quite as memorable as experiencing it for oneself. I noticed, for instance, that that the beaver swam by every day around the same time, that porcupines walk funny, that moose eat plants in the lake, that eagles like to fly in circles and that bears are usually more afraid of you than you are of them. Perhaps I was lucky to have never encountered a hungry cougar or grizzly, or perhaps the horror stories we hear about the dangers of nature are the exception, and there is more risk in our children playing video games than foraying like Red Riding Hood down the woodland path. Regardless of the stats, my own experience affected me enough to cause me to go into studying environmental science, biology and geography in university. And, although my family lives in the city now, we have only ever lived in houses where our daughters can have access to greenbelts and well planted yards. Come to think of it, every home we have had in the Vancouver area has been visited by not only racoons, but eagles, deer and bears; and though cleaning up a toppled garbage can makes me grumble like the rest of them, there is a certain comfort in having mother nature living right next door.

As a girl my heart was lit with the green flame, and I've never turned away from Kernunos since, nor the lady of the lake, and as time goes on I value my experiences in nature more and more. I only wish my children, and their chidlren, and theirs too, will not only have such experiences themselves, but share them with their friends and banana slugs all over the world.

If you have never spent considerable time in nature, it’s easy to be annoyed with the bugs, upset by a lack of running water etc. But, if you can let go of your wired urban buzz to really be there, it will start to sink in, and the more keyed up we are the longer it may take. Thankfully, it takes less time for kids to get into and be one with nature than nature disenfranchised adults. And, as Louv points out, the good part for over scheduled modern parents planning nature trips is that it is unstructured play in nature that is most beneficial to kids, allowing their imagination and spirit to open up in free play. A trip to a sandy beach with young children is evidence enough of that.

Fortunately, as well as pointing to a host of associated troubles associated with a denatured childhood, Louv provides solutions besides the beach, such as hiking, bird-watching, camping and other excursions—especially ones that foster disorganized creative play in a natural setting. Wow! Playing in nature as a remedy to an environmental problem? If only all our environmental issues could have such lovely solutions. But don’t take my word for it. Read this book, and you’ll be itching to grab your kids and head for the hills with a great big grin on your face too.

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[1] A philosophy that calls for a profound shift in our attitudes and behavior based on voluntary simplicity; rejection of anthropocentric attitudes; intimate contact with nature; decentralization of power; support for cultural and biological diversity; a belief in the sacredness of nature; and direct personal action to protect nature, improve the environment, and bring about fundamental societal change.
From: http://highered.mcgraw-hill.com/sites/0070294267/student_view0/glossary_a-d.html

[2] Cariboo Lake - Cariboo Lake is situated about 24 km (14.88 miles) north of Likely on the Keithly Creek Rd. A large lake with a mean depth of 18 meters (59 feet), it contains wild stock rainbows, Lake Char, Kokanee and Dolly Varden.

If you have GoogleEarth you can view the map and satellite images of this area of BC: http://www.anglersatlas.com/googlemap.php?pr=bc&id=16643