snails – Woods & Wetlands

On our next-to-last day of Session 1 for Woods and Wetlands, we took the kids down to the main river channel. By this time the water level had gone down and the current wasn’t as strong along the sides of the river. Just as importantly, we now knew these kids pretty well and were ready to trust them to do their part to help keep themselves and others safe. We expected to find crayfish as we did last year, but we should have remembered that nature always offers us the unexpected! (No crayfish.)

Above: Enjoying the cool river water on a hot day, the kids discovered a “mess” of tadpoles, some tiny trout, and how sunlight refracts in water, changing our depth and spatial perceptions. When the current increased in strength for those who went a little deeper, they noticed it and processed it verbally. Mrs. Webb and I kept our eyes on the kids at all times, offering thinking questions and modeling how to wonder, to guess, and to think about everything around us. Every moment could be a teachable moment in the wild, but we still choose to allow many moments to flow past with the current, just staying in the present. The natural world is where humankind evolved and where we are still adapted to be, though we don’t always know it. The more exposure to the natural world, the more resilient we become to life’s stressors.

With about half the group and Mrs. Webb engaged with using their nets along the river’s edge, the other half opted to go on a mini adventure with me to find the place where “our” creek flows into the river. But before we’d gone very far upstream, we encountered a large maple tree that had recently fallen across the river. We didn’t let it stop us though! The first few explorers clambered easily through the leafy branches about 4 feet above the river. These were experienced tree climbers. One of them returned to offer support to the others.

I perched myself in the middle of the tree and gave what encouragement I could to those less experienced. Despite saying they were afraid sometimes, they didn’t give up and go back. “It is okay to be scared. Take your time. Only do what you feel safe doing.” Slowly, hand by hand and foot by foot, from branch to branch, they made their way through the horizontal tree. This was the ultimate chance to teach the differences between living and dead branches. They could feel the flexible strength of the still-living fallen tree, while older, dead logs beneath our feet filled in some of the gaps, but had to be carefully tested before putting any weight on them. They learned to lightly press these, noticing how some rolled, tipped, or even cracked. With lots of coaxing, reassuring, and suggestions from me, I was elated when the last explorer arrived on the far side of the tree… just in time for us to realize it was time to go back and pack up for the day!

Back they went, but reversing the process that brought them through wasn’t an easy thing to do. Once again the more experienced climbers scrambled through, stepping confidently from branch to branch despite the river and the unknown below. I stayed with the new learners as they worked their way back. Such concentration on their faces! Once through, they offered different responses. One of the twins was elated, proud of his success, happily boasting that he wasn’t scared. The other, who typically is the more confident of the two, breathed a gust of relief and said, “Well, I’m never doing THAT again!”
I paused for a moment to consider her feelings as well as my own. Then I offered the following:
“That would be too bad because it will be so much easier the next time you try! Your brain is going to process what you did today while you are asleep tonight. Your muscles will remember some of what they learned. And you were so brave to go through that tree like that! I hope you’ll try again, but you don’t have to.“
Now it was her turn to pause. With a huge grin, she exclaimed, “So, you mean my brain will be climbing trees all night?!” She was delighted with this prospect!

The next day, our last, the whole group went through or around (on the shore side) the fallen tree. I had a feeling I would not have to ask whether the twins were going to try it again. Their brains definitely climbed trees while they were sleeping! They went through before I even realized they’d started!

He didn’t used to like getting dirty. Now he’s wearing mud and a snail!

The only boulder in sight proved to be more of a challenge than many expected!

We were sad to say good-bye to this group, but we know we will love all of the groups still to come! I hope to see everyone this next school year when I bring Woods and Wetlands programs to local elementary schools again!

This is the best camp ever! I wish I wouldn’t get older and not be able to do it again!

What if you had tree branches growing out of your ear holes?

We used our pocket microscope to look up close at this rock she found.

Summer Woods and Wetlands Camp at Camp Rockford has begun! Our first group has only been with us three days and already there is a definite sense of bonding between all of us. Already these kids have filled my heart and gained my trust. It may be 90+°F out where the paved and treeless places swelter in the sun, but we are right where our bodies are adapted to be, playing and learning in the deep shade of oaks, maples, and hickories, as well as wading around through the cold, flowing water of a local creek. We watch slimy slugs staying cool tucked into the grooves of wet oak bark, while toads abound in the soft, dark leaf litter and rich forest soil.

Day 1 we went over a lot of safety info and then explored the creek. We introduced the journals toward the end of our morning and were pleasantly surprised by how well the kids took to them this time. Of course, each group and individual differs, but my theory is that starting out with journals last year felt too much like school, hence, more resistance. This time the kids welcomed a chance, after exploring, to plop down, tired but happy, and draw and/or write about what they experienced. I also have the benefit of having read more of Anna Botsford Comstock’s, Handbook of Nature Study, in which she states her observation that, “The child might rather never had this experience than be forced to write about it.” Instead, she encouraged students to write about it only “because I am curious to know what you discovered,” and only if they wanted to. I was very struck by this! It seems wise to me and fits with my philosophy about the importance of nature-play-based learning to build a sense of love, connection, and ownership with nature on Earth that may later lead to more reading, writing, and more formal study of the natural world.

Of course it also makes perfect sense that it is silly to ask someone to write BEFORE they have the experience! Especially when those “someones” are still so new to written communication, when their verbal expression is still developing. And, as I told my students’ parents each year on Curriculum Night, the only way children will be able to make connections to what they read, or to even HAVE something to write about, is if they are having real life experiences! On-screen experiences happen on a screen, but we know that children’s bodies are what they use for real learning. If it is in the body, it is in the brain.

Day 1 also included the standing sensory exploration I began implementing in the spring with all of the classroom programs I did. On Day 2 we introduced Brain Gym and mindful breathing. When we focus on and are aware of our breath, we cannot help but be present in the moment. I recently learned a new breath-work technique that has significantly improved my own anxiety, and I now teach it to children to use for calming themselves as needed. It felt so amazing to observe these kids who I only just met on Monday, trusting me to guide them through trying some bizarre, new, movements and breathing strategies! I simply explained that the movements help the two sides of their brains work together better, and the breath helps us notice how we are feeling on the inside. What I did not say is, with near-constant external stimulation of today’s world of technology, it takes intention to remember to check in with our bodies. As a culture, we are losing touch with being able to feel/notice our own sensations and to recognize and name them. How can we trust and hear our bodies and minds if we never stop the busy-ness and put away the screens in order to turn inward now and then throughout our day?

When I got home after camp today, I noticed a note I had made to myself earlier this morning. It said, “greeting with info about what they Know, Notice, or Wonder about a nature treasure.” My initial thought when I spotted the note was, “Darn! I forgot to do that!” Then I paused and laughed at myself. Any teacher of my generation will know I was plugged into the old, “KWL,” strategy. It has morphed into any number of different permutations over the years, but the point of it is essentially the same. But what struck me as funny today was it hit me that when children are engaged in learning through nature play, no one needs to prompt them to ask questions, share observations, or tell about what they already know. Because it is their nature to do all of these things on their own! In fact, a teacher would be lucky to get a word in edgewise between the questions, stories, and exclamations!

Our Morning Meeting is held beneath the shady arms of a single tree in a tamed expanse of mowed grass. Today the tree was raining seeds down upon us, which precipitated a mini lesson about how seeds that land in places where humans have stifled or destroyed the natural order of life, death, decomposition, soil, and new growth, cannot grow to make new trees. We began imagining aloud what if the seeds landing upon us took root and we grew trees out of our heads!? Always open to silliness, our imaginings expanded. The kids had us all laughing over the idea of acorns for eyes and branches growing from our noses or ears. As I reflect on this now, I see an analogy. Too often we adults get in the way of children’s natural interests and learning abilities. We have good intentions, like mowing under a tree, but maybe we need to get out of the way a bit more. Mow a lot less. Let the kids’ “seeds” land where they will, and grow in a place we have not prepared for them, and in ways that work for each individual. Let learning be organic and messy. Follow their lead and offer enrichment when needed, but step back too. When we force every seed to land in the same place, a place we have interfered with so much that nothing can grow there except grass that is never allowed to flower and drop its own seeds, there will be little to learn in that monotonous place. Our children grow rich in mind, body, and spirit when they are surrounded by diverse, natural, spaces where their seeds can all take root.

Tag: snails

So My Brain Will Be Climbing Trees All Night?!

Letting the Seeds Grow.