Praise as Protector of the Natural World Kathy Abbott About two miles from my parish, there is a place where on these blazing hot summer days, you can enter a green lawn under an enclosure of towering oak trees and feel ten degrees cooler. The oaks surround an ancient spring‐fed pond, which has been enlarged and adapted over the years into a pond/swimming pool hybrid. In the 1930s children dove off a floating dock in the middle of the pond, but now they use diving boards and tubular plastic slides along a straight cement wall at the deep end. Despite the cement, the tree canopy and the pond's rounded, dark shape provide the impression that you are at a serene, natural body of water. In fact, native frogs have this impression too, since each August they find their way to the grassy, shaded edge of the water, much to the delight of frog‐catching children. This green place is special, and a new historical marker put up in 2010 says as much. It was founded in 1929 by a group of Jewish summer homeowners from Brooklyn. The pool plus 150 acres were known as The Colony until 1969. The original owners enlarged the natural pond, stocked it with fish, and also allowed swimming. The pool transferred to municipal ownership in 1969 and has been managed and maintained by municipal employees ever since. Because it is a municipal pool, the landscaping is not on par with private swim clubs, but those majestic old oaks are inviting. Since 1995, I have raised my children on the partially shaded beach side of the pool. Under the trees, parents park their strollers and let infants and toddlers sleep. Mothers, protected by a blanket, nurse infants. There are two play structures, one for toddlers and one for older kids, in the wooded recesses around the beach area. Both are welcome respites from the sun at the water's edge. Lots of people know the pattern of the sun, and set up their chairs on the side of the beach where the shade grows as the day progresses. Others place their chairs at the edge of the shade closest to the water in the morning, and then follow the shade as it gradually retracts. Shade is what the skin doctors order, especially for children under age 3. There is something else the shade offers. You feel an almost parental comfort from the stately trees. When you reach a relaxed equilibrium of playing, chatting or observing, you may notice the abiding presence of the trees. Amidst the gentle rustle of the leaves, you can become in tune with the hum, the perpetual motion of the earth's energy within and without. The trees are breathing themselves, sending our lungs pure oxygen, and we, in a divinely complementary way, return the favor by breathing out carbon dioxide. In addition, the trees are performing transpiration by releasing fine water droplets through their leaves, thereby cooling all organisms living beneath their canopy. As one of these organisms, you may sense that you are nourished and suspended in a larger whole. This feeling of comfort from nature, this almost womb‐like experience, is called Biophilia, the love of nature. Biophilia, a term coined by biologist E.O. Wilson, leads us to seek recreation in beautiful natural places, with water, scenic landscapes and clear skies. We want to re‐charge, re‐create ourselves in natural spaces where we momentarily feel free from personal obstacles and challenges. Theologian David Toolan, S.J. calls this felt‐sense of belonging to the infinite a “cosmic embrace.” This intuited awareness of participating in something larger than ourselves is also what theologian Karl Rahner, S.J. defined as the human capacity for “pre‐reflective,” “pre‐conceptual” knowledge that the divine is incarnate in our world. St. Augustine referred to this same non‐verbal knowledge of God when he wrote in the 4th century that Christians, of which the vast majority were illiterate, could read the “Book of Nature” equally as well as the sacred scriptures to find illumination about the order, beauty and love of God. Our ancestors set to music this knowledge of...