Sitting in the marsh, if I were asked to write on this when I arrived here, I should describe only a few meager glimpses of life. A blue heron nest stands still and empty at the top of a dead tree, a few ripples of bugs on the surface of the water. But as I stared at the still water, I saw the first few glimpses of life. Newts swam underwater, a great match to go with the efts we were finding throughout the previous days. I caught a leech that was swimming (something I've never seen).
Apparently I have forgotten all of my freshwater biology, or I have never really been to a swamp, because everything we pulled out, every muck-filled bucket was full of life. Every bit of pond scum every bit of plant hid a living thing. There was life everywhere. And if only we could get people to go outside to see below the "mucky" water, see into the mud, see into the forest and open their eyes, their senses to that sense of adventure, we would feel so much more connected to the world.
I don't think I'll ever drive past a swam again and look at it in the same way...
Monday, June 16, 2008
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Teaching in the Outdoors - Day 1
Today was he first day of class for my Teaching in the Outdoors class. We've had a full, long day and as I write this I'm sitting in Panera bread (free wireless wohoo) sipping a chai and trying to remember the entire day as well as I can.
We started with the typical introductions, then went outside. The first activity was a silent walk, we walked from the entrance of the Harris Center to a tree-shaded lawn. As I listened to the typical noises of morning birds waking up to song, we all heard one that we weren't expecting. It went hoo-ho-ho-HOO... hoo-ho-ho-HOO and come to find out it was a pair of Bard Owls. How neat is that?! It's so rare for them to sing during the day so they must be gathering food for new chicks. I could tell that this would be one of those special classes at that. We played a few great group games before going down to the lower part of the field to journal using all of our senses (see previous entry for an excerpt).
Another neat activity followed when our teacher brought out paint swatches (the kind you can pick up at the Hardware store) and asked us to find that color in the open field below us. I first got yellow and found a yellow leaf and a dandelion, then a purple card had me picking other purple wildflowers. Each person in the class took their find and laid it out on a white bandanna, and it really tuned us into the colors other than the dominating green in the grass. I love how with the conscious attention of the mind, our senses can be so much sharper, more discriminating. Throughout the rest of the day I felt my eyes picking out sudden flashes of color - the yellow butterfly's wing glinting, the bright green beetle on the rock, the wildflowers within the grass.
After that, we were allowed to take plants in the area and smudge them onto small pieces of paper to make a drawing. I took an Indian Paintbrush and created what turned out to be a very beautiful sunrise (or sunset, depending on who you ask) behind mountains made with clover leaf smudging. I'll try to scan it if I get a chance.
We started with the typical introductions, then went outside. The first activity was a silent walk, we walked from the entrance of the Harris Center to a tree-shaded lawn. As I listened to the typical noises of morning birds waking up to song, we all heard one that we weren't expecting. It went hoo-ho-ho-HOO... hoo-ho-ho-HOO and come to find out it was a pair of Bard Owls. How neat is that?! It's so rare for them to sing during the day so they must be gathering food for new chicks. I could tell that this would be one of those special classes at that. We played a few great group games before going down to the lower part of the field to journal using all of our senses (see previous entry for an excerpt).
Another neat activity followed when our teacher brought out paint swatches (the kind you can pick up at the Hardware store) and asked us to find that color in the open field below us. I first got yellow and found a yellow leaf and a dandelion, then a purple card had me picking other purple wildflowers. Each person in the class took their find and laid it out on a white bandanna, and it really tuned us into the colors other than the dominating green in the grass. I love how with the conscious attention of the mind, our senses can be so much sharper, more discriminating. Throughout the rest of the day I felt my eyes picking out sudden flashes of color - the yellow butterfly's wing glinting, the bright green beetle on the rock, the wildflowers within the grass.
After that, we were allowed to take plants in the area and smudge them onto small pieces of paper to make a drawing. I took an Indian Paintbrush and created what turned out to be a very beautiful sunrise (or sunset, depending on who you ask) behind mountains made with clover leaf smudging. I'll try to scan it if I get a chance.
Teaching in the Outdoors (class journal)
Below me ferns spread rising and splayed to meet the sun, star shaped flowers and vines creep along under their cover. Lichen spreads lazily on the rock, the wind picks up and I hear bugs buzzing, trees rustling and it almost sounds like running water. A big black ant crawls across my smudge painting, a spider starts and stops hesitatingly on the rock face, in a hauntingly mechanical manner. A dragon fly sits for a moment on a leave then another, then rests beside me.Beetles, bees, ants, moths and butterflies dance in and out of view, in and out of earshot. Above my head a dead pine reaches up into the cloudless sky like the bristles of an inverted broom, as poplars and aspen flutter in a high breeze. Dots of yellow buttercups on the ground in the grass are navigated by bees ad butterflies in a lazy but precise path. A green caterpillar inches up my leg, then arm to check me out.
I can feel the weather chance as a cold breeze seems across my exposed skin. I am in awe of how many bugs and plants and flowers I've never stopped to watch or hear. How many different buzzes, flicks, whines, flutters, rustles, chirps, peeps and whistles there are to hear, and how many more I do not yet hear, awaiting to be heard.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)