Children and Wild Water

"The child, making use of all that he finds around him, 

shapes himself for the future."

Maria Montessori

I led seven of Chickadee's older children and two mothers on a Columbia Gorge adventure on Friday.   It was splendid - Latourell Falls, Wahkeena Falls, and Oneonta Gorge - an outing I have done every summer for many years now. Each time it feels like a miracle.

And then I left for a week-end writing workshop on "Earth Verse" with Kim Stafford at the Sitka Center for Arts and Ecology, a birthday gift from my daughter Eloika.   I felt utterly humbled sitting in that group, and yet words flowed onto my paper. And sure enough, my heart, imagination, and writings were full of children, water, rocks, and light.

So here today I have gathered some few photos from Friday, and two of my rough verses, written for myself, and now apparently for you, shared in the innocent spirit of the children who inform my life.

Latourell Falls

We began with Latourell Falls, the western-most falls in the Gorge.  First we walked down the trail, getting up close and personal with the plunging falls and the rushing water.  The kids scrambled over rocks at the edge of the creek until the spray was blasting us and I said, go no further. Then we hiked up the curving trail which climbs above the top of the falls.

With Children at a Waterfall

Slip inside the water, I tell them.
Let your eyes follow it as it falls.
When it hits the pool, stay with it.
Become spray.
Bring mist to the hillside, glistening yellow flowers.
Flow and tumble over rocks.
Move, swirl, dance, down, down.

Within water lies the great mystery.
Never created.
Never dying.
Lying hidden.
Flowing open.
Free of clinging.
Connecting us all.
Slip inside the water and be free.

Oneonta Gorge

We stopped at Wahkeena Falls for a comfortable picnic lunch, but could not give this cascading falls the time it deserves as a wonder of its own. We needed to move on to Oneonta Gorge, a side chasm that opens into the larger Columbia Gorge. (For those who know Oneonta, I don't climb the logjam with these kids, leaving that challenging adventure for children with their parents.) We stayed in the lower part of Oneonta Creek, still running wide, clear, and cold in late July, with towering green walls on either side, an utterly pure adventure and experience for these young children.

Timeless

Rocks sing under over.

Water moves ever on.

Secret voices speak story.

Loud voices call delight.

Trout swim silent witness.

Salamander snaps moving food.
Sun tracks eastern cliff.
Shadows cloak western wall.

Where is time held?

Gorge follows different master.

Kim Stafford used some lines from a Leonard Cohen poem to set the tone for our workshop.   They rose up in my mind, ringing loud, as I finished this blog post.

Ring the bells that still can ring.

Forget your perfect offering.

There's a crack in everything.

That's how the light gets in.

Seeds. Leaves. Plants. Life.

"We shall walk together on this path of life, 

for all things are part of the universe, 

and are connected with each other to form one whole unity."

Maria Montessori

All year long the children are immersed in the plant world at Chickadee, and with the irrepressible, rising energy of spring, even more so.  Writing this one sentence recalled in my mind the great lines of Dylan Thomas' poem:  "The force that through the green fuse drives the flower / Drives my green age...."  The children's "green age" is happening now!  So it is natural that, while we are immersed in the driving forces of spring, we focus a beam of light within our curriculum on the green and growing plant kingdom.  We have been weaving in and out of seeds and flowers and sprouts and trees, and all the while the children have been embracing their unique and daily encounters with nature outside our doors.

Where does it begin for a child, this sense of connection with nature?  What does he first notice?  When does it start to come together as a conscious awareness that humans and animals live alongside plants in this world, that we depend upon plants for life itself?  How does the inherent joy and beauty of being in nature connect with their developing intelligence?  I know I do not know.  I can only offer some small and beautiful possibilities, and let the children's unique spirits unfold on their own timetable.

Perhaps for some it happens out in the forest, as a group of friends lean against trees and create and re-create their stick fort masterpieces?

Maybe for some others it comes more deeply or easily with putting fingers and hands into the earth, planting seeds, and then witnessing their growth?

 

Or could it be that a quiet and solo encounter with one growing thing in the forest or garden, be it a mushroom or a trillium or a daffodil, first kindles the child's sense of connectedness and wonder?

For some children the magic may happen most powerfully in the inviting branches of a tree, the very act of climbing generating their awe.

Or might this secret of childhood lie hidden in the work of planting a vegetable that will be with us all summer, sharing its bounty?

Because we are so connected with one another within this children's house, might it be that all of these experiences combine together, so that we each become enriched by everyone else's consciousness?  I like to think that is so.  I talk to the children as if that were so.  And I give botany lessons as if that were so. The whole becomes greater than the sum of its parts, and each child becomes greater than her own individual experiences.   We weave it all together in this shared life of ours. 

One of Dr. Montessori's brilliant insights was that the children benefit by breaking down the whole into its parts.  Botany is a perfect example:  we have cards and puzzles to learn about the parts of a plant, a tree, a flower, and a leaf, so part of this weaving is a very careful set of lessons and materials.  We do seed experiments and look closely at each stage of sprouting.  We pick flowers and learn some simple science that drives their beauty.  This child has put out the cards which illustrate the parts of a flower, matched up the puzzle pieces, and now she is looking at a single flower with a magnifying glass.  Many children have done this now, and more will in coming weeks.

  

Then I showed Cherry how to dissect a few flowers into their parts. And here is the result:  her careful layout of stem, sepals, petals, stamens, and pistil.

We also have a set of cards for learning some simple leaf classification, demonstrating with pictures the basic shapes, vein patterns, and leaf margins. Once they get the idea, this work involves their heading outside to look for different kinds of leaves, which is always a cause for delight and excitement. Fern, big leaf maple, duck's foot, Oregon grape, coltsfoot - so many possibilities so close at hand.  And the children really are learning to identify them.

Most of these activities are done in small groups or individually.  But also running through these weeks have been large group lessons on some of the awesome impacts of plant life, facts such as these (lest we adults forget):   We are eating plants all of the time, even when we're eating eggs or milk or meat.  We are eating the sunlight that plants turned into food.  Our houses are made of plants. We are breathing the air that plants help create. 

Recently, the older children wrote some small/big "reports" to share some of this budding knowledge. Each report began with the children spelling out the words as best they can, with a movable alphabet, then pencil on paper, then the illustration. This is a big work for 4-, 5-, and 6-year-olds.  Big truths put into few and potent words.

"a leaf is green"  

I told them about the amazing green pigment called chlorophyll,
which takes the energy of sunlight  and turns it into food for the plant.
Think of it - making food from sunlight!  We can't do that!

Cherry brought in a big leaf maple leaf from the forest and traced it for this one.

"leafs have Many shapes"

So very many shapes, just within our mini-ecosystem.
Leaf hunts are satisfying and fun.  

Drawing different leaf shapes was a lovely project for an artist like Cara.

"the Sun makes plants gro"

Roots bring up water, some minerals, and plant nutrients, but the sun is the source of all plant energy.  Rex was intent on showing a small plant and then a tall one, reaching for more sunlight. What happens when a plant gets no sun?  

That's our next plant experiment.

"the leaf veiNs carry foob(d) to the plaNt"

Noah had a plant lying next to his paper, so this is a real nature sketch,
and for him, a lot of written words.

"fern has spores"

The sword ferns dominate our forest understory, 

and we notice that they don't make flowers.

Isabel knew that they have spores instead, on the underside of their leaves.

"a leaf iz a solr panel"

This one was a scientific leap of imagination!  Collin excitedly noticed the parallel between a leaf and a solar panel, both collecting energy from the sun, 

and then he drew it - sunlight on leaf, sunlight on solar panel.

"Plants make oxijn"

We talk about the great circle of life, plants releasing oxygen for animals, 

and animals including us breathing out carbon dioxide for the plants.

Brady was uneasy because he knew that oxygen was invisible, 

but he had to show it somehow.

The circling of the seasons brings us new and renewed experiences with the plant kingdom, again and again, and the learning deepens and evolves over time.   Some experiences are one-time adventures. This is the western hemlock that fell from our neighbor's place across our fence back in February - talk about being immersed in plant life!  The kids thought that was a great day, and indeed it was.

Kids and plants = Joy.

Dipping our Toes in Europe

"The teacher's task is not to talk, but to prepare and arrange a series of motives for cultural activity in a special environment made for the child."

Maria Montessori

We've held a soft focus on the continent of Europe for the last few months.  When I found this quote, it seemed perfectly relevant for this blog post, because that is what I did - I made available a series of activities for the children.  And then we watched what caught on, who was interested in what, and where the children led us with these materials and projects.    Now we're nearing the end of this cycle, and I cannot honestly tell you what they "learned" about Europe.  What I can tell you is that the children have been engaged, expressive, and creative, as they have dipped their toes into the rich culture of Europe via maps and flags, music and art and story.  So here are some glimpses of the trail we followed.

The Europe puzzle map, with its 40-odd countries, is quite a challenging work in itself, not for the faint of heart!  Rex and Seamus spent a long time that morning putting together this puzzle, and again on other days too.

Plus we had 15 flags of Europe on the map cabinet, and I made little slips with the names of the countries, color-coded to their color on the map.   A few of the older children began to connect the flags with the countries, and we used our great flag book to learn what the colors and patterns on the flags meant.  So a week or two later, Rex worked with Collin and they started matching up the flags to their countries.  I would step in to read to them about one flag at a time.  Then they tried drawing some flags too.

Concurrent with these classic map and flag activities were the materials and lessons about the biomes of Europe, and animals of different biomes.  This was really quite wonderful, because Europe is not known for its animals, is it? And yet here were these three sets of cards - animals of wetlands, forests, and mountains - with all kinds of animals and their unique lives, so much to learn about, so much to love.  Here Brady was working with Evangeline.  He  laid out the whole card set of animals of the wetlands, and told her about the animals he was most interested in.  

These cards were the inspiration for the marvelous chalk art project which all the older children did in March. They chose one animal, from one of these sets, and set to work.  First they drew the animal on black paper - usually with some coaching on where to begin, how big, and so on, but we never draw for them. Then I traced their drawing with school glue.  The next day, when the glue was dry, they could set to work coloring with chalk pastels.    This is Isabel's bittern. Priceless.  They are all priceless.

Another part of these great materials from Waseca are the biome readers - little six-page booklets which each tell about one animal in one biome. The three-year-olds love these booklets as much as the older children do, because we always sit down and read to them, and then they get to figure out which picture goes with which page. Ethan has just finished "The Red Deer," which is now an endangered animal because its forests are disappearing.  Another favorite was "The Water Spider," the only spider who lives underwater; it makes a bell-shaped web under water and carries air down to it with the hairs on its body.  All kinds of wonders!

The children used the biome cards to write many story pages. Just last week Cherry drew a pond skater and copied the words from one card:  "The pond skater feels the ripples from across the water."  There really are endless possibilities that arise out of these cards, with just enough information to pique their interest and lead them onward.  So now your children have formed a connection with this continent through its animals - hedgehog and ibex, polecat and graylag goose, Alpine hare and snow finch.  They know that they share this earth with them all.

Meanwhile, people!  A few weeks ago I pulled together one of my traditional, favorite crafts - "paper people."  I like to put these out for every continent we learn about. Some of the children were so excited when they appeared, and made one paper person after another. Others  never did get into it.  Even with the pre-cut clothes - supposedly showing different cultural costumes - every single paper person turned out unique.  Hey, I love these so much I have two sets of them from past years framed in the office.

On a more elevated cultural level, I found a calendar with some of the stunning and famous buildings and structures of Europe.  I rotated them on the wall, we talked about them, and a few children tried their hand at drawing them.   Here you can see the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, Mont St. Michel, and the absolutely stunning St. Basil Cathedral in Moscow.  The children are willing to try, they draw freely, they experiment, they give it their best.      

Finally, a really rich and ongoing part of these last months has been this collection of art postcards, "Child-Size Masterpieces," a curriculum developed by Aline Wolf, a long-time, stellar Montessorian. They encompass a carefully planned, sequenced series, which the children explore one folder at a time.  Most of the art is European.  The folders start with simple matching of identical paintings, then similar paintings by the same artist, then four paintings by artists whose names we begin to teach, then themes, and schools of art.  We encourage the kids to take them slow, and to imagine these works in real life. We might tell them when one was painted, or how big it is in real life.  We might ask, "Which one do you like the most right now?" or, "What do you think the artist wanted to express?" or "Would you like to try painting one of these?"

Matching the identical and similar cards works beautifully for the youngest children....

....as well as for the oldest.  The whole series of postcards becomes quite a remarkable journey for a child who is interested in art.

Our first group project taken from the art cards was based on Mondrian, whose stark geometric paintings appear in one of the first folders; his style is perfectly suited to the children's interest and skill level.  No one was unwilling to do this one.

Seurat's pointillist art was the inspiration for the dot paintings. Collin was totally focused and silent the whole time he painted here, and he had such shining eyes when he was finished.  When Seamus completed his glowing, dotted tree, seen in the center of this display, he looked up at me and exclaimed, "This was the best day of my life!"

At the top of this blog is Charlotte's blue pony, which she painted after being inspired by Franz Marc's "Little Blue Horse."  She was so thrilled with this horse.  And this is Cara's interpretation of Fragonard's "The Swing."  She was enamored with this wonderful, soft, glorious painting, and totally satisfied with her own swinging girl. 

While some of the Europe materials are put away now, these cards stay out, and these explorations with the art cards will continue on for as long as the children are interested.  Some kids have done most of the cards, a few are just beginning. None have yet discovered that the last set is a whole collection of transportation art - from foot travel to boats to trains to automobiles.  I know some kids who might discover their first timeline if and when they get there!

Another central aspect of our cultural journey in Europe has been music, but that has just become a separate blog post.  For now, I will let Brady's little bearded reedling, a bird of the wetlands of Europe, sing you its simple farewell song.
  

                                                            

  

We're back!

"The child builds his inmost self 

out of the deeply held impressions he receives."

Maria Montessori

Cara is sitting in flowers.  How perfect is that, for the first day back! 

After a long and mostly rainy Spring Break, the children all tumbled outside today, rejoicing that it wasn't raining and that they were all together in their Chickadee land again.  Ten days away, and the visible signs of our new spring are all around. The "protected areas" in the forest are filled with green, mostly the abundant waterleaf, but many other plants are emerging too. These protected areas have worked out better than I dreamed. The first two I circled with stumps.   Since then I've used whatever branches fall, following the children's natural paths, and now we have a network of different protected areas and running paths and open space.   

So the Indian plum has leafed out - it's always the earliest  - while the big leaf maples are in bud. Sprinkled throughout these areas are trilliums and the first native yellow violets. This green, unfolding, and flowing life is what surrounds your children as they play, and as Montessori wrote in the quote above, the impressions they receive become part of who they are.

Each child has his or her own individual experience, every single day.  Here are some glimpses ..... 

Evangeline found one little mushroom, and she stopped to say hello.  I don't know if anyone else saw it.  More mushrooms will be appearing soon.

Collin greeted the earth by playing with sticks, beating and digging - it was as if he were drumming, saying "Hello dear friendly mother earth, I'm back!"

Cherry found the big yellow dump truck filled with muddy water, and she stirred and stirred for at least fifteen minutes, totally engrossed.  She didn't get a bit of mud on her princess dress either.

As soon as I pulled the tarp back off the sand area, Joey and Eleanor plunked down in their favorite place.

Moving wood and branches and building things is a constant enterprise around here.    Ever since the top half of our neighbor's western hemlock fell across the fence last month, and we were rewarded with a bounty of new branches, the forts have taken on a whole new level of elaboration.  Rex is working on one of them; he told me he was "Bob the Builder."  

Seamus is hauling wood from one place to another. I have resolved to bring in more scrap wood and building materials, after reading a powerful article from The Atlantic, called "The Overprotected Kid."  (Link below.)

Meanwhile some other children discovered the camellia tree by the chicken coop, where the ground is now covered with flowers.  They named it the "Pink Land."     Brady and Cara both climbed up in the tree - imagine the beauty of climbing a tree where flowers fill your eyes.  Julian loves to poke little sticks through leaves and flowers and make little umbrellas and other wonders.  

A fantasy game began, complete with a princess and a wedding.  After lunch the game continued, and Joelle, our new assistant, sent me this photo of Cara in the tree with Evangeline looking up at her, just as I was finishing this post. She too was enthralled.  A pink wonderland!

At our morning circle, Collin had announced that he learned how to ride a two-wheeler during Spring Break. So after playing under the trees for a while, he and Rex headed for the bikes, and helped each other with helmets.    The bikes are the speedy way to move through the forest.

Collin is heading down the side road.  This little hill provides a perfect level of challenge for these biking adventurers.  In this case, the bike and he went down a second later - no upset, he got back up and kept going - he explained that, yep, he needs to practice the foot brake some more.  

Another part of every day are these other members of our community.  We let them out to scratch and explore on their own, and they run about as fast as the kids do when they are set free.  If only I could teach the chickens to stay in the forest and out of the flower and garden beds, they would be out more.   It's quite striking how they like to be close to the kids when they are outside  - I don't know if it is familiarity, or if they feel safer with them around, but the hens will stay down below much longer when the children are playing around them.   They behave differently when they are out and the children are inside, or when no one is here but me.    Then they head for the raised beds and the flower gardens, and scratch scratch scratch....

while the kids run run run ... and climb climb climb ... and dig dig dig ... and build build build ... and grow grow grow.

Here is the link to the article "The Overprotected Kid."  It's long, potent, and thought-provoking (though it seems I can't make a live link....)

http://www.theatlantic.com/features/archive/2014/03/hey-parents-leave-those-kids-alone/358631/