Jeff Nania, executive director of the Wisconsin Waterfowl Association, spoke at the Pecatonica River Watershed Summit in Monroe Saturday. His topic was the "Migratory Use of the Pecatonica Basin by Waterfowl," but his message went much farther than that.
"What is the greatest threat to the environment today?" he asks.
"Global warming?" someone queries.
"Nope!"
"Invasive species?"
"Uh uh!"
"The greatest environmental crisis we have today comes from our children's obsession with video games and the Internet," Nania asserts. "We have given our children every reason to stay home."
I've known Jeff for several years, and can vouch for his strong commitment to kids and the environment. Jeff, and several other similarly motivated conservationists, established the highly successful River Crossing Environmental Charter School in Portage in 2002.
He reinforces the notion that all of us are responsible for introducing our young folks to the natural world. Not only is it a responsibility, it can be great fun.
We had a grand time babysitting grandchildren during Easter week this year. At seven and five, Markus and Anna love to tromp around in Grandpa's woods, and there are lots of springtime chores to perform.
The youngsters serve as eager recruits for birdhouse installation duty. With their help, we'll add to the bluebird trail along an old fence line.
First we must check existing houses for necessary repairs and cleaning. But as Grandpa peers in through the hole, a chickadee springs from within at full speed, squirts through an adjacent brushy area and disappears.
Grandpa recoils as though shot and the kids make a run for it, certain that something terrible has happened. When we've all collected our composure, the teachable moment has arrived. We discuss migration, why the chickadee had moved into someone else's home (good luck here) and, of course, what will happen if there aren't enough houses to go around.
We pause for a while along the bluff and listen quietly as the soft breeze stirs through the aging pine trees. Where does the wind come from and what happens when it blows too hard?
The marsh below is alive with sound and motion. The geese have returned to start new families among the cattails and sedges. Unlike the lighter-bodied chickadees and bluebirds, Grandpa notes, they build their nests on the ground.
The freshly hatched eggs and tiny goslings will be vulnerable to predation but I'll pass up that lesson for now. Perhaps when the little ones have witnessed for themselves the deadly forces of nature at work will we talk about the food chain and how the various species of plants and animals stay in balance with one another through a rather gruesome struggle for survival.
Another day the kids are pressed into service helping Grandpa install wood duck houses along the Pecatonica. It's important that we get them up soon because Mom and Dad Wood Duck will be searching for a tree cavity or other place to raise a family over the summer.
I have a few wood duck dwellings on hand, courtesy of Steve Dieckhoff and the Blanchardville Rod & Gun Club. The group bought a 100 of them for a buck apiece from one of the state prisons. By the way, he has a few left if anyone is interested.
"I need to get them out of my garage," he urges.
The kids agree that the trees along a river are the best places to establish the wood duck homesteads. But Anna struggles to carry hers down the old logging trail. Situated on a north-facing slope, it's still clogged with ice and snow.
"Wait for me!" she grumbles, then dumps her cumbersome cargo in the middle of the trail.
Not to worry, Grandpa counsels. "We'll come back later to retrieve it."
Later in the week, three-year-old Sydney will join the group for a similar outdoor adventure. Curious about everything, "why" questions come nonstop until the sand hill cranes open up with their raucous squawking north of the river.
"What's that?" she queries. Another teachable moment.
The stringy-looking birds are clearly visible as they swoop across the marsh. Sydney can't seem to pick them up, however, as she looks in every direction but the right one.
No matter, she soon joins in the effort to simulate their guttural cry. A good mimic, she does a fair job of replicating the sound, which she continues to practice the rest of the day.
Come rain or shine, they will spend much more time out-of-doors at Grandpa and Grandma's over the years. It's the natural thing to do.
- Lee Fahrney can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
"What is the greatest threat to the environment today?" he asks.
"Global warming?" someone queries.
"Nope!"
"Invasive species?"
"Uh uh!"
"The greatest environmental crisis we have today comes from our children's obsession with video games and the Internet," Nania asserts. "We have given our children every reason to stay home."
I've known Jeff for several years, and can vouch for his strong commitment to kids and the environment. Jeff, and several other similarly motivated conservationists, established the highly successful River Crossing Environmental Charter School in Portage in 2002.
He reinforces the notion that all of us are responsible for introducing our young folks to the natural world. Not only is it a responsibility, it can be great fun.
We had a grand time babysitting grandchildren during Easter week this year. At seven and five, Markus and Anna love to tromp around in Grandpa's woods, and there are lots of springtime chores to perform.
The youngsters serve as eager recruits for birdhouse installation duty. With their help, we'll add to the bluebird trail along an old fence line.
First we must check existing houses for necessary repairs and cleaning. But as Grandpa peers in through the hole, a chickadee springs from within at full speed, squirts through an adjacent brushy area and disappears.
Grandpa recoils as though shot and the kids make a run for it, certain that something terrible has happened. When we've all collected our composure, the teachable moment has arrived. We discuss migration, why the chickadee had moved into someone else's home (good luck here) and, of course, what will happen if there aren't enough houses to go around.
We pause for a while along the bluff and listen quietly as the soft breeze stirs through the aging pine trees. Where does the wind come from and what happens when it blows too hard?
The marsh below is alive with sound and motion. The geese have returned to start new families among the cattails and sedges. Unlike the lighter-bodied chickadees and bluebirds, Grandpa notes, they build their nests on the ground.
The freshly hatched eggs and tiny goslings will be vulnerable to predation but I'll pass up that lesson for now. Perhaps when the little ones have witnessed for themselves the deadly forces of nature at work will we talk about the food chain and how the various species of plants and animals stay in balance with one another through a rather gruesome struggle for survival.
Another day the kids are pressed into service helping Grandpa install wood duck houses along the Pecatonica. It's important that we get them up soon because Mom and Dad Wood Duck will be searching for a tree cavity or other place to raise a family over the summer.
I have a few wood duck dwellings on hand, courtesy of Steve Dieckhoff and the Blanchardville Rod & Gun Club. The group bought a 100 of them for a buck apiece from one of the state prisons. By the way, he has a few left if anyone is interested.
"I need to get them out of my garage," he urges.
The kids agree that the trees along a river are the best places to establish the wood duck homesteads. But Anna struggles to carry hers down the old logging trail. Situated on a north-facing slope, it's still clogged with ice and snow.
"Wait for me!" she grumbles, then dumps her cumbersome cargo in the middle of the trail.
Not to worry, Grandpa counsels. "We'll come back later to retrieve it."
Later in the week, three-year-old Sydney will join the group for a similar outdoor adventure. Curious about everything, "why" questions come nonstop until the sand hill cranes open up with their raucous squawking north of the river.
"What's that?" she queries. Another teachable moment.
The stringy-looking birds are clearly visible as they swoop across the marsh. Sydney can't seem to pick them up, however, as she looks in every direction but the right one.
No matter, she soon joins in the effort to simulate their guttural cry. A good mimic, she does a fair job of replicating the sound, which she continues to practice the rest of the day.
Come rain or shine, they will spend much more time out-of-doors at Grandpa and Grandma's over the years. It's the natural thing to do.
- Lee Fahrney can be reached at (608) 967-2208 or at fiveoaks@mhtc.net.
