My earliest childhood memory is of me at around 3 1/2 years of age hanging on for dear life to an old weather-beaten styrofoam surfboard while roaring into shore on a huge wave. My Dad would tug me out beyond the breakers until his head was barely above water. He would then wait for a big wave and then just let me go. I would coast into shore after a roller coaster ride. He would swim back in and get me and we would do it all over again. I remember the excitment being mixed with a little fear since I had not yet learned to swim.

I also distincly recall not being too worried. I was certain my Dad would rescue me if I ran into trouble. At some point that old piece of foam snapped in half in the middle of some foamy water that was just a wee bit over my head. I danced up and down on my toes to keep my head above water, and remember clearly what went through my mind: I looked back and saw a big wave heading towards me at roughly the same speed as Dad was swimming towards me. I remember making a decision that I would keep up the toe dance so that even if the wave got me, Dad would have a good enough bead on my location to save me before I drowned.

Mom holds my little sister on my head while I play in the sand. I love this old picture.

A few years later, I remember popping the heads off of live shrimp with my thumbs after Dad dumped them out of his cast net into a jumping pile in front of me. Even though I had been told that I could not be saved if I fell off of the tall windy bridge into the dark waters below, I felt pretty safe since Dad had removed all the seatbelts from the car and tied me and my little sister to the bridge railing. Because of the tides, we were almost always there at night, and the bridge was lined with glowing hissing propane lanterns. I can still see in my mind's eye everyone's shadows as they hauled in their nets.

Once we all got a little older, Mom's hobby of shell collecting grew and took us to two of the best shelling places in the world: the islands of Sanibel and Captiva. Often we would walk along the beach or in the shallows by the mangroves looking for shells. But occasionally a small motor boat would sometimes be obtained and we would all pile in and head out to the flats at low tide. We would wade along the clear and shallow muddy flats feeling for shells with our toes, always careful to stay close to the boat and away from the edge of the channel where sharks lurked. When we finally did see a shark, it was a large hammerhead thrashing back and forth on its way to the channel in a foot of water. We all clambered into the boat to let it pass and I remember thinking that it was good to know that a seven foot shark could manage to swim in only a twelve inches of water!

When I think back on these trips, I realize that the tradeoff for these calculated risks my parents took was enormous for me. Getting tied to a bridge with a seatbelt at age five, hanging on tight while riding a wave and not panicing after a wipeout when I was 3, and learning first hand that big sharks can swim in very shallow water were critical life lessons! These experiences taught me that natural world can be dangerous so you must learn to trust yourself, evaluate each situation differently, make your own decisions and manage risk safely.These experiences also provided a source of inner strength that I count on even in middle-age.

I have many other childhood memories of looking for sharks teeth and fossils along a remote beach and diving into caves in icey freshwater springs and they all continue to bring peace and the desire for new experiences into my life today. I am certain that spending even a few days out in nature somewhere like Florida a few times a year can alter your children's lives.

And not just your kids will benefit! You will too! It is not so hard to find a guide who will take you and the kids and even the family dog on a kayak trip through a quiet bayou. The kids will remember it all of their lives and it might just save your life when you are back home and find yourself going crazy and feeling overwhlemed by the seemingly endless and meaningless challenges of daily life. Make no mistake, these things chip away at your soul and can create a deep sense of loneliness that no amount of watching the Travel Channel can combat. Plan a trip! You don't have to come to Florida (though I wish you would). Even lots of local short daytrips can stack up to some meaningful time. Like the shoe company motto says: just do it!

My Sister and little niece on the beach

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