Today's Forest School was a study in the range of human emotions.
As our newest explorers jubilantly scooped up fallen leaves and threw them high in the air, I watched the leaves scatter back to the ground. It was almost as if the leaves were unwilling to be lifted out of their damp, flattened state. Ha! I know that feeling.
The intermittent drizzles and mists of rain were too much for the older explorers to bear, and they eventually holed themselves up in my minivan and waited for their younger sister to join them in rainy day misery.
She did not. She threw off her coat and tramped over, under, around, and through the forest. By the end, her brown curls were supporting thousands of miniscule water droplets that made her appear to be wearing a sheer silver hoodie.
She, unlike the older ones, had the good company of many cheerful preschoolers and the sound of giggles came from every direction. I don't know why the big ones were flat and the little ones were bubbly. The opposite was true last week.
All I can say is that we made it outside another week in a row and so far I've never had the same experience twice (not even close).
Whatever the forest has to offer next week, I will accept it as if it were a gift from a stranger--with mild apprehension and child-like curiosity...And I am always grateful, even if the experience falls flat.
[Cue: older kids honking the car horn for me to leave.] Sigh....
