Yes, I’m going to begin this post with those words, “When I was a kid…”

But as we celebrate EARTH DAY, and its great significance, I can’t help but think back to the late 50’s and early 60’s and the impact that my parents and my teachers had on me and the way I view the world.

I specifically remember one important lesson from way back when I was in 2nd grade. I lived in La Mesa, California, a suburb of San Diego. I lived in a little pinkish/salmon stucco home surrounded by other little stucco homes of many earthy colors. Our little community was carved out of many hills, and on those hills grew the most slippery green plant – pickleweed. My brothers, my friends and I loved that pickleweed. Me especially. We used to sit on our bums and literally slide down the pickleweed-covered hills like it was a great big ski slope covered with snow. I found this easy to imagine because, unlike most of my friends, I had previously lived in New England and knew the snowy feeling of slip-slidin’ away (even though that Paul Simon song wouldn’t come ’til much later!)…

We didn’t much think about how that pickleweed broke easily, and how its cool fleshy insides oozed. We just knew that there was plenty of it, and when one patch got too squashed or wet, we moved onto another patch.

But I did think much about pickleweed the day my 2nd grade teacher talked about erosion in a science unit. I may not remember if she spoke about climate or precipitation or agriculture… but I do remember that she had a clump of pickleweed. She placed that pickleweed in a little basin of soil and small rocks and tipped the basin toward our class. She poured water in the basin. And what we saw was that little clump of pickleweed tumble forward… and then the displaced rocks followed.

My teacher probably talked about ground cover and drainage and stripped vegetation, but all I saw was what we were doing to that pickleweed. All in the name of fun.

I never slid down a hill of pickleweed again.

On this EARTH DAY, I’d like us to remember the people who have made the greatest impact on our lives and the way we view the world. It’s funny, because I can’t for the life of me remember the name of my 2nd grade teacher (cut me some slack… it was 1959!), but I remember her lesson. And it is this little lesson on erosion and pickleweed that shaped my love for nature and its splendor. It is this little lesson that has made all the difference.