Empty Spaces

Remember exuberance?

I love visiting big, open areas with my kids: spaces with few trees, few rocks, not much of anything other than grass (or sand). Playing with with them in places like this is so fun. It's different than the way they play when there are trees and rocks to climb, sticks to collect, leaves to pile up.

They jump. They dance. They spin in circles. Sometimes, they just run. They have room to move, to whip through the air with nothing nearby-just glorious space. They move their bodies through this space, feeling what they're capable of, trying new things, feeling the wind in their hair. Learning what fast feels like. And sometimes, what slow feels like. They play chase. They throw things as far and as hard as they can.

Usually they are also very loud, as if the wide-open-ness of the wide-open spaces just begs their voices to be as full and loud as can be. And how many places are there where kids can really yell, shout, scream, really check out what their voices can do?

It's great to visit these places and watch our kids revel in the freedom, but how about you? Do you remember how to spin in circles until you are dizzy? Roll down a hill? Whoop and holler just because you can? Go outside and find some open space. Your kids will remind you how to do these things. I promise.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Oh, my. I thnk fall is upon us.

I'm still in denial over here. I know, I know. It's October. It's not going to warm up again. Not for a long, long time. But -and I know I say this every year --I'm not ready.

Now don't get me wrong. I love the change of seasons. I love autumn and the colors and the crisp air and the smell of the dry leaves on the ground. But the transition from summer to fall has always been a difficult one for me.

And, I have learned to embrace winter, in spite of myself. This was a monumental effort for me, which took years. And I had to be paid to do it. More on that in another post, someday.

For now, I'll dig in my heels a bit and sigh as I put on my fleece jacket. I'm not ready quite yet for this.

The kids, on the other hand, are elated. L looks out the door every morning: "Oh, looks like it rained a bit last night! And it's getting so cold outside!"

Or, when we leave the house, J will yell, joyously, "Smells good!" as he takes in a breath of air so huge I expect him to physically expand.

I really ought to thank my kids-they constantly bring me back to the here and now. I snap to attention, and recognize some of the beautiful things Ihave had a tendency to overlook lately. The smells. The temperature. The visual changes everywhere-in the trees, the grass, even the sky.

I forget the leaf-identification games and the tales of animals preparing for winter (all good activities in their own right, mind you, but for another time--that's not that we're here for)

For fun, I ask them to tell me what's going on in "nature" (a.k.a the yard, for our purposes these days) and they point out incredible things for me. I like to make a game of it, and they are happy to show me the world through their eyes.

I've found that academic, "school-y" questions like, What do you notice about the change of seasons? or What's happening out here? are a bit much for young ones. They're a little too "big" and abstract. To make things easier for my kids to explain, I get specific:

"Tell me what's happening in the garden?" I ask, or, "What seems to happen to the trees in all this rain?" and, "Can you show me one nature treasure?"

"All the plants are shaggy" She tells me, pointing out the frayed petals, the sagging leaves.

"This tree is wearing a wet jacket" she says, rubbing her hand across the slick bark.

Or, my favorite: "There are nature treasures everywhere! And they're wet!"

What we can do

This morning on the way to L's school, J noticed a huge flock of pigeons whooshing over the top of a building.

"Look at all those birds!" he exclaimed.

The kids wondered why they were in such a large group. I told them that it was a chilly morning, and birds often roost on rooftops or other sunny places in the mornings to stay warm.

"How come we can't fly?" L asked.

"Well, flying is something really special isn't it? It's something that only animals can do -only birds, and insects, and bats. There are lots of special things that people can do that animals can't do. Can you think of a few?" I asked.

Silence.

"Well," I began, hoping to get them started. "People can write, draw pictures, color, talk..."

"Give. People can give." L said.

Indeed.


Here's something to try:

Today, why not look at an animal and talk with your children about what that animal can do that makes it special. Maybe it's something people can't do. Maybe it's something that people do, but differently. For example, how do squirrels climb trees? How do they eat? How do animals talk to each other?

sounds good

Aren't children wonderful the way they just take it all in? They are naturally inclined to use all their senses, all the time. We adults get so used to processing our world through one or two channels, it's easy to overlook all the delightful other ways we can interact with the natural world. Here are a few ideas.

Touch: Not only can we touch things with our hands, but we can try to notice the way different things feel under our feet. The kids love walking around barefooted as much as I do, so we are constantly taking in information about the world through the bottoms of our feet! But how much do we really notice? I've been asking them to really feel the ground, the logs, the grass. Take your shoes off too! What does the sidewalk feel like? How about the forest floor? Can you find a place to stand where you can put one foot in the hot sunny sand and one foot in the cool water of a lake? What's that like? Can you feel with another part of your body, aside from your hands and feet? How about an arm? A cheek?

Sight: When was the last time you laid on your back and just looked up through the tree branches? Or lay on the ground and gazed at the clouds floating by? I'm not just talking about tilting your head back either. I mean this: stop, lay down where you are, change your body's orientation from vertical to horizontal, and look. What do you see? Describe it. Watch clouds for a while. Or watch the leaves dance in the breeze. Your kids will be great at this. Ask them to show you how. Another idea: Lie on your tummy and look at what's in front of you. What's down in the grass? Find five things, or ten, or twenty. Make a loop out of string, lay it down on the ground and discover together what's inside that circle.

Taste: Of course, I'm not advocating that you eat the wild plants you find. (Unless you are hiking with a very knowledgable mycologist or naturalist, o'course.) But--where can you find things to taste outside? We have a patch of mint in the garden and the kids love to grab a leaf or two and munch on it when we're playing out back. They also seem to enjoy licking rocks, don't ask me why. This won't hurt anyone, (although it makes my mother cringe) and I like that they are exploring so naturally using all their senses. (It simply hasn't occurred to them not to) Other ideas: Have you ever tried to catch raindrops on your tongue? When was the last time you ate snow? If you aren't entirely comfortable literally taking in the natural world through taste, then why not try eating more meals outside? Or making a batch of Sun Tea? Let a popsicle melt in a cup and drink the sun-warmed juice. Sunshine has an amazing effect on the taste of food and drink.

Smell: The kids are (I think) lucky to have a mom with a bionic nose-and (yay!) they're starting to comment on the smells they notice outside. It's amazing what they can smell. L can smell the rain coming. J loves to smell the flowers. They both love the smell of dirt. (but who doesn't?) Not so much the fresh tar on the street, or the garbage truck as it drives by. So maybe you don't have a bionic nose-how can you encourage your kids (and yourself) to notice more of the world of smell? Next time you're on a walk, challenge yourself to smell ten different things (or let the kids pick the number)-be they plants, fence posts, your neighbor's wet dog running past. Just notice things, or actually make a point to stop and sniff.

Hearing: In the city, especially, it's easy to get used to tuning out sounds. In my neighborhood, there is car traffic as well as almost constant air traffic-a lot to tune out. It's often hard to pick out anything else. But, we love to try. We listen in layers: What do you hear besides the cars? Besides the planes? We close our eyes and listen. (Closing your eyes really does help! It shuts out the other stimuli) They can pick out the birds, the dog barking down the street, the kids playing on the slide nearby. What else can you hear? I ask them. They can pick out the water lapping on the shoreline, the wheels of a stroller. Try this sometime: Go someplace. The park, the forest, your yard. A street corner. Close your eyes. Put up one finger for each sound you hear. You don't have to identify it. In fact, if you make an agreement that you don't have to know what the sound is, it may help you hear more sounds. How many can you hear? (Note: I have found that this is also a wonderful way to "get centered" when I'm stressed out. Brings me right back to the present moment.)

Got any fun sensory games to share? I'd love to hear 'em.

search and find

The summer weekends are too incredible to spend inside. And summer is just too darn short. As soon as we were fed and dressed on Saturday, we headed out the door to a park that's close to home but one we rarely visit. It's just off the freeway and despite the constant, low roar coming off of I-94, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We snuck off the trail and down a steep, rocky slope to the riverbank and stood watching the Mississippi roll on by.

It was a perfect morning: candy-puff clouds dotting the blue, blue sky, the water twinkling in the sunshine. L and J stood quietly for a second or two at the water's edge and then proceeded to collect rocks. L would stand at the very edge of the water, then hoist a rock overhead, and drop it into the water with a satisfying plunk. D and I enjoyed the time to ourselves as this game literally kept the two of them occupied for 15 minutes.

When they started to tire of the rock-throwing game, I challenged them to a search-and-find. This is one of my favorite outdoor activities with young kids-it's so great to help them develop focus and notice details. The game is great for any age, you can tailor the details to what you think your kids will be able to find. "Can you find a rock with stripes?" I'd ask. Then they would each wander, head bent, searching, searching.

The choices are virtually limitless with a game like this. I had them search for:

• spotty rocks
• the tiniest rock you can find
• the biggest rock you can lift with one hand
• a round rock
• a gray rock
• a white rock
• a rock that wants to be in the river (and of course, they happily obliged the rock's desire)
• a rock that feels smooth
• a rock that feels bumpy

And on and on. The game can turn into an organizing game, a matching game, and a classifying game too. (if you want to get all academic) Of course, they are also learning about textures and other physical qualities. It's also great to let them come up with the categories and the adult to do the searching. Like I said, it's a nice way to help little ones develop the ability (and the practice) of noticing details. And of course, you don't need to use rocks-just use whatever's there: leaves, flowers, etc. Try it! Let me know how it works for you and yours.