Snow in Summer

Squirrels in the planters,

 Slugs in the veg,

Blackbirds digging in my pots,

 Cats pouncing from the hedge. 

This sounds like an excerpt from a children’s rhyme and I may make it into one but it most aptly describes my garden on most occasions. I shouldn’t, then, have been shocked to discover what I saw when I crawled out recently from beneath my covers, shuffled downstairs and stood bleary-eyed at my kitchen window. The scene - a mass of white.

 I know what you are thinking – snow, as did I….initially. (It is summer – what else?) As it looked quite patchy I realised it warranted further investigation. To my amazement, as I reached the door I realised that instead of snow, the covering on my lawn was, in fact, feathers. Lots and lots of fluffy, downy white feathers. What on earth had happened? Asking myself this question prompted me to ponder on what the children would think of my ‘blanket of feathers’ outdoors. 

When they arrived, later that morning, I remarked at the sight outside and asked them, firstly, what they thought it could be. As they looked out from the patio doors they could see what the elder one described as “white blobs.”  We had to go out and take a look.  Under close supervision we trooped out with our magnifiers to inspect my garden.

The magnifying glasses revealed the filaments of the feathers, larger versions of which they have happily played with indoors.

“How did they get here I wonder?” I began the conversation.

The eldest child thought the birds must have “left them for us.”

I wasn’t so sure and I couldn’t quite believe that one bird could have so many feathers. 

On retiring indoors we began some research. There are some amazing facts about feathers. (As a childcarer I am constantly learning.) Here are a few ‘Did you know..?’ facts.  Apparently, the number of feathers on a bird varies according to; species, size, sex, age, health, season, and temperature of habitat. Most songbirds have between 1500 and 3000 feathers and  there are 7 different types of feather. I have quite a collection of my own and we looked at the contrasting types. 

All this was very interesting but this didn’t answer my question; what happened to the now, presumably, featherless bird? My own knowledge of my garden is inclined to lead me to believe that it was a fox.  I have seen of them in broad daylight confidently prowling in the bushes and some of the extremely large, slow-moving wood pigeons are easy prey. This brought me to an additional problem; how to discuss the apparent savagery of such a well-loved wild animal?  I say ‘well-loved’ because the children are young and are used to tales of ‘Foxey Loxey’ and the not so unfriendly fox in the ‘Gruffalo.’

I decided to take my lead from the children and see what other explanations they could come up with after talking a little more about birds, feathers and wildlife generally.

“I know some foxes eat birds”,

I offered when the children became quiet.

The reply?

 “I won’t be a fox - don’t want to eat pigeon with fluff on it!”

How fantastically sensible.

DomesticatedMomster

Once Upon a Time in the Woods

They say first impressions are lasting. How true this is! The jaw-dropping reaction to my first session at a local forest school.

Once upon a time there was a city, a big city with lots of people and cars and buses and areoplanes.  In the middle of the city right next to all these people, cars, buses and aeroplanes, was a wood. Not a very big wood but a beautiful one with tall trees, dappled clearings, colourful flowers and mysterious bugs. This was not an ordinary wood; it was magical, with trees that spoke, insects as big as your hand and trees as high as sky scrapers.

These are not my words but those of a handful of 3 to 9 year olds at a forest school in Manchester. To the children it is many things; a haven, a place of solitude and learning and, above all, a place where you can come together with friends and make it anything you want it to be. Last week it was a puppet theatre, the week before that it was café…..

The school is far removed from the mainstream, assessment-driven, dare I say ‘factory,’ state schooling we currently allow our children to enter.  It is free from walls, myriads of rules and overly restrictive attitudes.  It allows children a real freedom.  Freedom to think, share, talk, learn and, most of all, play. There are few resources provided as the wood itself provides a rich array of media for children to explore, experiment and utilise readily in their play.  The result is a group of children who have a rich vocabulary, burgeoning self-confidence, exemplary negotiating skills and imaginations that are so diverse and rich that it takes some keeping up with.

Don’t get the incorrect impression, these are not feral children.  They have an order to the day that, whilst familiar to them, is in no way restrictive. Instead it fits around their interests and fascinations.  They continue play that was started the previous day or even the previous week.  In fact, they are indulged in these interests by the adults present who observe quietly and take part in their play by invitation only.  We are asked to taste tea, help with menus and listen to newly composed songs.  We watch and see children helping each other, feeding off each other’s imaginations and, ultimately, learning from one another. This is holistic learning. The day isn’t divided into compartmentalised subject chunks where ‘never the twain’ shall meet. (If only life were so ordered.) The learning that takes place is not that which helps them pass exams but which empowers them with life skills: They confidently use adult tools to make wooden objects; they cook their own lunch (and wash up afterwards.) They develop the confidence to climb trees with no adult support and they have lots and lots of discussions. (The talk is endless)

Waiting to gain entry on my first day, a large group of children were sitting playing a game.  I asked them if someone would let the leader know I was here. Five minutes later I was still there, waiting for them to nominate, put forward a motion and then vote on who should be the one to seek out the adult. Far from being aggravated for not being let in, I was stupefied into silence by the actions that unfolded. (And that takes some doing.) This is democracy in action and all at primary school age!

Reflecting later at this ‘full on’ yet wholly engrossing and captivating time spent in some local woods, I thought just how lucky these children were. Lucky to be able to roam, climb, investigate, deliberate and procrastinate whenever they liked. Lucky to be listened to and taken seriously. Lucky to be free to make connections with others as well as the natural world around them. Remind me, how many children do this these days?

PLAYING LEARNING ACHIEVING 

@Clarelouisebod

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