The Gulf, Grandparents, and Generational Bonds Woven In Nature

The older we get, the more our thoughts turn to family, tradition, and legacy. My oldest granddaughter turned four recently, and my younger granddaughter turned three. I am deeply and profoundly thankful that my granddaughters are approaching an age where we can begin exploring nature together. I am starting to ponder what I can pass to them that my grandfather passed to me in terms of exploring and enjoying the natural world. Generational bonds woven within nature are strong indeed.

One of the things I admire most about the National Wildlife Federation (NWF) is its commitment to environmental education for children and young adults. Whether it’s programs in schools like Eco-Schools U.S., Earth Tomorrow, Ranger Rick Magazine, or the Greenhour Campaign, NWF invests time and resources into reaching future conservationists.

Sunset over Florida wetlands Credit: Joe Murphy

The Gulf South my granddaughters are starting to explore in 2025 is very different from the one I began exploring in 1975 with my grandfather. But for all the changes, there are still fundamental experiences that ground us in the wild Gulf.

A worm on a hook is still slimy. A snake slithering past our feet is still startling. A mullet jumping still makes one smile. A shade tree is still welcome, and a cool spring still provides sublime joy. 

When I was about my oldest granddaughter’s age, my grandfather taught me to crab and fish in the Gulf. When we got back to my mom’s house, he would turn the crabs we caught loose on the kitchen floor, and I would scream in fear and joy as I was sure they were chasing me across the linoleum. 

I remember he made a special tool he used when we caught a stingray to release it without feeling the searing pain of its barb. He modified a broom handle with a metal U-shaped attachment he used to pin the tail in the sand while he gently removed the hook and set the stingray free. I wish I had that tool today. 

I treasure the things that my father and grandfather used when we explored nature together. I still have my dad’s binoculars. I still have the ancient red canoe he bought when I was born. Thousands of miles and millions of paddle strokes later, it lies patiently waiting in the yard to carry my granddaughters on their first river journey. 

The thread of exploring the natural world winds its way through our family from those who came before me to those who will come after. We have camped, hiked, swam, paddled, watched wildlife and fished across the many magical places of Florida and the southeastern United States. Our family connection has been deepened by watching bats and stars, by wading through mud, by slapping mosquitoes and by occasionally getting lost in the backwoods, backroads and backwaters of the Gulf South. 

I’ve been exploring and hiking in Florida’s wetlands since I was young. Credit: Joe Murphy

Now it is time for me to start the cycle anew. I shared those natural and outdoor experiences with my children, and generated lots of transcendent memories, but I was sometimes focusing on parenting as much as simply being. Grandchildren are for simply being. 

I am a selfish old man in many ways. I want to keep everything the way it was. I fear and loathe change. I want to share the wild places and natural wonders of my youth with my descendants as I knew them in yesteryear. But, alas, I cannot. 

What I can do is support NWF with my advocacy, funding, and voice. I can join NWF as they speak for the trees, for the rivers, for the wild places and for the creatures that call them home. I can do it because it is simply the right and just thing to do. I can do it because of all that nature and the Gulf South have given me. And I can do it for my granddaughters. 

If the grandfathers of the Gulf South spoke up more for the wild and natural legacy that was passed to us, and that we can pass to those to come, perhaps we could save more of the Gulf. A gathering of gray beards joining NWF in staking a claim on behalf of their grandchildren. That would be a legacy worth leaving. 

An edited and abridged version of this essay appeared in Florida Atlantic University’s The Invading Sea. Joe Murphy is a former Wildlife Policy Specialist for NWF’s Gulf Program and contributes blog posts to NWF as a supporter and alumnus.