Dear KidsOutAndAbout readers:
In last week's column, I wrote about the Humble Abode, the kids-only hideout my sister and I created behind the giant azalea bush in our backyard. We dragged in chairs and treasures and made a little home in the hollowed-out
branches. At the time, I thought of it as something we had built. But of course, we didn’t create it from nothing. We were makers, yes, but we were making inside a world that was already alive.
Summer is the perfect time for kids to experience that lesson up close and personal, with all their senses. The world is warm, green, buzzing, blooming, squelching, chirping, dripping, and growing almost too fast to track. Kids can smell lake water and tomato leaves, feel bark and moss
and mud, watch ants organize themselves with alarming competence, and notice that the same trail looks different after rain. Nature doesn’t need a lesson plan. It offers immediacy first: I am here. This is real. Pay attention. And then, quietly, it offers perspective.
A child is legitimately the center of his or her own universe; we all are, from the inside. But Nature gently complicates that story. The robin is not singing for us. The creek does not hurry because we
are late. The sunflower turns toward the sun whether or not anyone remembers to admire it. Clouds, tides, weeds, and weather all proceed with their ancient business, reminding us that we belong to a world much larger than our schedules and preferences.
That perspective should not make us feel small in a bad way, but instead help us feel rightly-sized. Humans have the wonderful ability to create, repair, improve, and beautify our little corners of the universe. But we do it
best when we understand the nature of the world we’re working within.
So use this summer to include as much Outside Green Time as you can, looking up and around and in. Poke gently. Nature will do the rest.
—Debra Ross, publisher of KidsOutAndAbout.com, co-author of The Eclipse Effect: How to Seize Extraordinary Moments to Build
Strong Communities
