When I was three years old I went with my parents on a vacation to Robert H. On the hikes that we took there, my dad would give M&M's to me at intervals along the way as incentive for me to keep going. Our favorite time to go hiking was right after a big downpour when all of the animals come out of their flooded homes.
We would count the salamanders that we saw on the trail until we got to one hundred, examine their spots, and name them. We'd also catch some salamanders and toads, put them in a terrarium with leaves and water, and carry them back to show my mother if she did not come hiking with us. Sometimes, I would let a toad sleep with me in my tent. Then, in the morning, I would carry it around to find it bugs to eat. I remember bringing my pet toad Fatso to a downtown Ithaca restaurant and showing him off to the waitress.
Once, while hiking with my parents just past a falling rock zone, I saw a snake and exclaimed, "Catch him Daddy, catch him." And he did. We ended up bringing this poor garter snake home with us to Brooklyn. We didn't realize that she was pregnant until my dad woke me up one night to show me that more than twenty baby snakes were slithering around the cage.
During our visits to Ithaca I would often attend nature talks, some of which were led by Cornell students. One was at Buttermilk Falls. The naturalist hoped to contact young owls that were known to be in the area. He called, waited for a response, and then called again. In a few minutes, everyone in the group was completely silent as we stared at the owl that perched on a branch of the tree above us. .
After that experience, I have done owl calls occasionally during hikes, especially toward dusk. I often get responses and on rare occasions succeed in starting a brief "conversation." At the very least I terrify all of the rodents and small birds within earshot. .
My experiences in the Finger Lakes, having camped at Robert Treman for twelve out of the last fourteen summers, have filled me with a love of the area around Cornell.