Aware.... but not afraid

I let my daughter - she's 7 - go for her first hike by herself in the woods behind Grandma's house. I used to play in those woods when I was a kid. Now, it's her turn.

Ok, so you are thinking "what sort of weirdo lets his little daughter go play in the woods? Didn't you ever read Red Riding Hood?" Or, what if she got lost?

Well, I did arm her with a compass and an emergency whistle and taught her how to use both. I packed her a snack and made sure she wore a hat. Hey, she's a girl scout and needs to learn to be prepared. If she gets lost in the woods for a couple of hours, big deal, right? Anyway, a kid needs to learn to be aware but not afraid.

Oh pooh. We've been so inundated by cheesey television dramas like CSI and Criminal Minds that we' actually believe there must be psycho killers behind every dammed tree. Or maybe our fear is a leftover from our humble protestant-pilgrim heritage - you know the one that gave us Arthur Miller's "The Crucible"? Taught us to fear the forest because therein lurks Ole' Scratch or the big bad wolf?

Anyway, did I mention, that I tracked her the whole way? That she was never more than 100 yards away from me - even though I couldn't see her the whole time. Well, eventually, she doubled back and caught me watching her. Her disappointment of "Daddy! Why did you follow me? I wanted to be by myself." Was replaced by fascination: "How did you find me?"

"Well, babygirl," says I. "Remember when I taught you about following deer tracks? or dog tracks? or raccoons? Well, it also works for tracking little kids." The trails were indeed muddy that day from all the rain we've had recently. Made my job that much easier - it was kind of a game.

She insisted I show her the tracks she had made. "Lift your foot," I replied.

Anyway, the scariest thing in the woods is her daddy. And I've told her that. But remember, that's no comment about my own delusions of grandeur - I'm not a soldier, stalker or psycho. I'm simply a fiercely determined parent. I know those woods. There is really very little in the suburban greenbelt to be afraid of except maybe poison ivy, a few non-poisonous snakes, and the neighbor's dog.

Although, come to think of it, I did hear a howl that was vaguely canine. It sounded improbably like a coyote or wolf. But it was midday, and the call wasn't repeated or answered. I wasn't concerned. My daughter didn't hear it. Maybe it really was the BBW to come huffin' and puffin' . . .

It's regrettable that kids don't get to play in the woods much anymore. That parents are too frightened to let them. I am proud that my daughter is fascinated by the natural world. It's a hallmark of a curious, creative mind.