A good number of my formative years were spent in the backyard at the old brown-trimmed house along the oak-lined street near the college in my hometown of Valley City.  Nestled between the mesotrophic curve of the slow-flowing Sheyenne which forms three of the boundaries of the nearby city park and the steep rise which creates the south edge of the river valley which gave the city its name, my parents’ lot squeezed a two story residence, a garden, a compost pile and a backyard big enough for two boys to learn about those things that lived outside.