Growing up, I always visited my grandparents in Russia during the summer. My grandparents lived in a dacha (a small farm) in a small village in the middle of the forest and I helped them run the farm for the few months I was there. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an original essay I would work with my grandfather in the fields every day, learning his personality and outlook on nature and life. I soon began to notice all the tiny things that I couldn't see before. We looked at every leaf on each of our thousands of potato plants, looking for the Colorado potato beetle and its eggs; we didn't use pesticides, so we put the pests in a bottle by hand. At first, I hated this meticulous and dirty task. This disgusted me. But as I continued to observe the plants and insects, I realized that all these little people were hiding in plain sight. With the yellow and black striped Colorado beetles, I saw complex systems everywhere: the intertwined vines and messy roots, the flowers acting as homes for the spiders, and the delicate cobwebs glistening in the rain. Being in the field every day, I also began to notice subtle changes. The exponential flowering rate amazed me. First, a single small white flower could be seen in the green sea; about a week later the white outnumbered the green. The way the flowers turned their heads throughout the day also amazed me. For the first time I realized that everything was truly alive. Living with my grandfather, far from the city life I am accustomed to, I developed a new perspective on living things. I never really thought about it, but subconsciously I believed in a hierarchy of living things: humans at the top, cats and dogs just below, and all other animals somewhere below. The plants didn't even make my pyramid. But living with my grandfather changed. My grandfather valued all life (except those pesky Colorado potato beetles) and did his part to help. One day we saw a bumblebee struggling in an open barrel of water, and my grandfather saved it by scooping it up with his hands. He wasn't even afraid of being stung – almost as if he knew it wouldn't sting him. My grandfather also took in a beaten rooster that was wandering outside the farm and nursed it back to health. He loved animals, and somehow the animals felt that love and came to him. Plus, my grandfather could grow any plant. I know the cliché that "a plant needs love to grow", but after seeing my grandfather's farm, I believe it. When he worked in the fields, my grandfather always hummed and smiled. He loved agriculture and this love was passed on to his plants. He was very gentle with plants and treated them with respect, as he did with all living things. Keep in mind: this is just a sample. Get a personalized article from our expert writers now. Get a Custom Essay Sadly, life took a turn and my grandfather passed away in January 2014. Yet he still lives within me. Spending a lot of time with him, I developed his passion for agriculture and his love for animals. I am often told that I have a green thumb because I can grow plants well. People also tell me I must be an animal person when they see their pet..