I need to make a confession. Many decades ago, growing up in a Philadelphia suburb, my older brother and I liked to go on expeditions. These adventures sometimes required us to unwittingly break the law.

  Our two favorite destinations were a park and a sanctuary. The park taught us how to explore creeks and look under rocks. The sanctuary taught us how to be quiet around nature—for all the wrong reasons. The latter has proved far more enduring and rewarding.

   One time when brother John and I explored the creek, we went through a giant culvert. On the other side, we discovered a magical woodland before us. We also saw that it had an eight-foot-high chain-link fence to keep the public out. 

   Being inquisitive boys, we decided to see why this place was off-limits before we left.

  We crept up the brook another twenty yards, where it expanded into a large wetland. We also saw a man on the far shore and hid behind some reeds so he wouldn’t see us. 

   As I recall, he may have worn a robe like Friar Tuck’s and carried a Bible. (Or maybe he wore a suit and a clerical collar.) At any rate, John and I astutely concluded that we had wandered into some sort of religious sanctuary.

  When the priest left, we started to sneak out. Then we saw this strange, giant, bluish-gray bird standing maybe 20 feet away in the shallows. Every so often, it jabbed the water with its beak and snared a small fish. 

   This was the first time in my life that my jaw dropped. At least, that’s what I recall.

   I wish I could say that our little adventure taught us not to sneak into places we don’t belong, but it didn’t. We returned for other secret adventures until we moved away the following spring.

   The adventure did teach us that if you want to see nature’s most amazing everyday wonders, it’s best to walk softly and keep your voice down. If you’d like your children or grandchildren to appreciate nature, teach them this small lesson. 

   If your youngsters want to run and shout, take them to a park. They can have all the fun they want without spooking birds or turtles or disturbing the peace that people seek in nature preserves.

   Postscript: I recently used Google Maps to learn the name of that sanctuary. I think it was once part of the Saint Charles Borromeo Seminary in Wynnewood, Pa. The seminary still exists but moved locations earlier this month, and the sanctuary has given way to a housing subdivision. Such is the way of the world.

   Instead of paying a belated trespassing penalty. I’m sending the seminary a donation as my penance.

    As I said, this is a confession. 

   The Bird Watcher column appears every other Thursday. Email Jim at [email protected].