Keeping my mouth shut

I did a good job of this today. We attended a wedding party tonight for two of our friends. It was a delightful party with a welcoming and relaxed atmosphere and we had a nice time. The party took place on a family member's beautiful property and the kid all enjoyed lots of room to run and play, and even a chance to fish in the stocked pond. I don't have a problem with fishing. I remember fishing when I was younger and even going home and cleaning (not me personall) and then eating the fish. I'm not even sure I really have a problem with fishing for fun and throwing them back in. I have to admit, however, to being a little sickened when I realized that there really weren't all that many fish in this pond, and the kids were repeatedly fishing the same poor dumb creatures out again and again. I kept my mouth shut, though, and you know what? I think it was a pretty neat experience for Calvin all the same. He at least got to actually touch and look a real live fish before throwing it back so it could take it's turn with another kid on the other side of the pond.

Extra spring in our steps

The spring brings with it so many wonderful things to do! Though I'm still convinced that we will have at least one more snow fall before the month is out (and maybe even after), that didn't stop us from enjoying the beautiful weather this past week by spending much of it out of doors.

Already this season we have found emerging tulips and buds on tree limbs. On our walks we have enjoyed a lot of bird sightings, including cardinals, purple finches, yellow finches, sparrows, jays, blue birds, ducks, geese, and, just a few days ago, we were lucky enough to spot the beautiful Sandhill Cranes returning to their nesting ground, which just happens to be right next door.

Also on walks we've splashed in puddles, played in the final remaining mounds of snow, and studied the melt water run-off patterns (he got a real kick out of that).

We've even pulled out some of the summer toys for their first uses in the new year. He was particularly eager about the sand box and the sidewalk chalk.

Looking for fall

Calvin and I have a rule over the winter that, as long as the temperature is above the single digits, we have to spend at least fifteen minutes out of doors every day. I say a winter rule because getting outside during the summer is never a battle as long as we're not in the middle of a torrential downpour. But in the winter, with the days foreshortened and the earth put on ice, it's a lot harder to bring ourselves to leave the warmth of our cozy home to get the fresh air we really need.

Today marked the first day this year that I would rather have stayed curled up on the window seat and left the out of doors to the birds on our feeders, but we followed our own rule and headed outside anyhow. After lunch we donned our jackets and hats and trudged out into the chilly November air in search of fall.

Since it's actually almost winter, fall was a little hard to find; most of the leaves are gone from the trees, and even from the ground as well. Instead we were surprised to find a bit of leftover summer in the form of little blooming wild flowers, the ones that look like miniature daisies, scattered throughout the vacant lots in our neighborhood.

There is no better classroom than the out of doors. Rousseau, I am sure, would agree. We counted flowers. We dropped sticks into the sewer to watch the water ripple and obscure our reflections. We identified birds by their calls and their colors. We made footprints in a field of mud and compared the patterns left by our shoes to each other and to the wheel tracks left by the house building equipment that had left, it seemed, only recently. And we ended our walk at the park with fifteen minutes of intense physical education (a three year old repeatedly climbing ladders on a play structure means a good afternoon nap, after all).

And then, on the way home, we found our way inside a tree, and stayed for a little while. (and then we went home and took that good, long nap on a chilly afternoon).

Listening

"Close your eyes....what do you hear?"

We sit on the damp ground, our eyes closed to the autumn sun, the temporary blindness igniting our other senses; I feel the wind as much as I hear it, and it smells like fall.

"I hear a cardinal!"

"Yes, and finches, too—they're the quiet bubbly ones."

"You mean the ones that sound like this?" (enter cacophony of strange toddler vocalizations)

"Well, sort of. What else do you hear?"

"Mmmmmm....the wind, and the leaves."

"The wind in the leaves?"

"No, I hear the leaves falling... See mommy? Did you hear that?"

He's right. There is a lot that I haven't heard, haven't thought of, haven't paid attention to in many, many years, if ever I did, and now it all seems so obvious and invigorating, as brought to my attention by a three year old. Out here in the clearing, the woods devoid of their summer color and life, I can clearly hear the sound of leaves falling, hitting branches on the way down and coming to rest against the forest floor with an undignified fump.

We spent an hour or so late this morning hiking around the woods and clearing near our house. This is a favorite pastime of ours, and every different season brings its own joys there. Today we spent most of that time talking about fall—a conversation that led to talking about the five senses. By the time we got home we had a list of the many ways in which we can sense the season of fall using all five senses. We also had a bag filled with the many things we couldn't bring ourselves to leave behind, so we made a mural. Paste is a beautiful thing, though not nearly as beautiful as the mental processes of a three year old esuriently consuming the world around him.