Gobble It Up

Inspired by the beautiful weather, I spent some time during our last class reflecting on why being outdoors, being out in the world, is so important. The short piece below is a work in progress. It may become larger. It may become a poem. At this point, I'm not sure, but I'm looking forward to finding out.

Tiny shoes filled with sand push up mountains. The sandbox is their world. Together they create craters, peaks and valleys, castles and roads. They are building their world together. Brothers.

Outside the sandbox, my little one, just learning to sit, grasps for a stem, holds a crispy brown leaf at arm's length. Shaky. And in a surprisingly swift move, without hesitation, he tries to stuff the leaf in his mouth. Oh, to taste his world. To understand.

My oldest son grabs his own remains of a past season, a stiff pear leaf to crinkle in his palm. He stuffs the remains into his sweatshirt pocket. A treasure for this two year old.

My boys, brothers, want to be here, in their world - creating, tasting, saving. They want to gobble it up. They remind me to taste a few leaves each day.

Into the Gardens

It's the beginning of April. No showers today. Instead, a dappled stream of sunlight waves softly across my page as I sit outside. It's my last class at Longwood Gardens, and I'm taking full advantage of the weather in order to climb the steps to the top of the waterfall at the far end of the gardens. The last time I did this, nearly seven months ago, I was a very large at nine months pregnant.

In the heat of August, I trudged up these stairs, so slowly that my not-quite-two-year-old beat me to the top. Happily, I found this bench waiting for me there and carefully backed my way onto the wooden slates, vowing I would not move again until this little life inside me decided to make an appearance. Of course I moved. My son grabbed my hand, pulling his father and me on to our next adventure in the gardens.

So on this beautiful spring morning, I knew I needed to return, a bit lighter this time. Last I was here, I was on the cusp of a new adventure - mother to two instead of one. Now, as this class comes to a close, I am about to begin another adventure. How do I carve out time to connect and reflect to the natural world once this class is over? How do I continue to find time to write about my experiences in nature?

The Important Thing About Longwood

A morning literacy activity has us working in partners to scour through children's books. We're to choose one as a model. How might we use its structure as a springboard for our own reflections on this course?

Working with Jen, we created a reflection on Longwood based on the structure of Margaret Wise Brown's children's book titled The Important Book. This would be a wonderful activity to use with readers of any age as a summarizing tool following a reading. Have elementary readers create their own "important" poem about the book they've heard read aloud in class. Have high school students mimic the structure following a reading of a Shakespearean sonnet. What is the most important element of a sonnet? What is the most significant image? What is the most important theme?

Jen and I tried to incorporate these ideas into our piece on the most important aspects of Longwood Garden. So, here goes...

The important thing
about Longwood is
that it is history
growing beneath your feet,
a mission cultivated by DuPont,
an education that reaches all ages and
overwhelms the senses.
It draws you in.
It is a diverse abundance
of life -
of trees, flowers, grass.
But the most important thing
about Longwood is
that it is history growing
beneath your feet.