In the twentieth century, we underwent a fundamental change in our relationship with the planet. When I was a boy growing up in London, Ontario, my parents, my three sisters, and I lived in a house with about a thousand square feet of living space it had one bathroom but I don’t ever, ever remember fighting with my sisters about using the bathroom. The constant refrain from my parents was “David, go outside and play.” If I pleaded, “But Mommy. It’s raining outside,” I got no simple sympathy, only “You’ve got a raincoat. Put it on and call Bobby to play with you.” And I did. I remember a puddle as a place of great delight, whether to jump and splash in or to divert through a system of canals and dams. We would toss in chunks of wood or twigs as boats. We had a wonderful trait called imagination, and today’s children are no different.
– David Suzuki, Letters to My Grandchildren (Vancouver, BC: Greystone Books, 2015), p. 106