I still have visions of my youngest daughter running around the backyard of a property I once owned North of Orangeville. I would lose sight of her once in a while, between climbing to the top of the red pines to the north of our house, or searching for elves in their undergrowth.

One day I lost sight of her completely. We had a small above ground pool in the backyard, and I ran out to do a safety check. There she was, laying under the stairs to the pool, gently stroking the neck of a garter snake who was hypnotized by her. I left quietly.

On another occasion, I looked out on the back porch where we had a hummingbird feeder. I watched for fifteen minutes while she patiently waited with her hand outstretched under the feeding tube. Finally a hummingbird landed on her finger. She watched close up as it fed from the nectar and her smile was like a thousand Christmas mornings.

Today she lives in British Columbia with her husband and two beautiful grandchildren. She keeps them close to the wild and sacred spaces, hiking the trails, exploring the watersheds, releasing the salmon fry, and simply loving all of the life around them. They are free range children, maybe the last of a childhood immersed in nature.

Today we hear all kinds of experts tout the health and wellness benefits of keeping children in close contact with natural systems. But the easy way out is to hand them an electronic drug like a cell phone or an iPad. Will we inherit the Ecozoic or the Technozoic Era?

At least I know these grandchildren will have had their earliest years immersed in the natural world. If I leave behind any kind of a legacy, this is it.

The way I see it.