The Case for Nature Education

POP!

What the heck?!?!?  I feel the steering wheel rip right. I grip tightly as we cross lanes and then careen back towards the metal median and oncoming traffic. My mind flashes with images of my babies napping in the back seat. The trailer camper hitched to my vehicle pulls at me. I edge my car into the grass alternating between tapping the accelerator to avoid cars and tapping the brake in a feeble attempt at dropping our speed from 80mph to 0. In a cloud of dust, we come to a rest. I turn to check on the kids. Their eyes are wide. We are all holding our breath.

“Everyone ok?” I ask. They nod silently.

“Mommy, are we safe?”

“Safer than we were 15 seconds ago,” I answer honestly.

“Mommy, are we in a problem?”

“A bit, yes. But we’ve been in problems before.”

“Mommy, I’m scared a little bit.”

“Me too, Baby. But we’ve been scared before.”

“Mommy, what’s our plan?”

“Listen, I need to step out of the car for a sec and see what we are dealing with… Can you play with Brix for me?” 

He nods, “Don’t worry. I know what to do. But, can we do Gratitude Circle when you get back in?” Then, he winks… sort of… it's a 4 yr old wink. I laugh, step out of the car, and cry.

^ That. All of that is the comfort with a difficult situation that comes from experience with difficult situations. All of that is the methodical, step by step assessment that comes from problem solving the invariable issues that arise when you live hand in hand with Mother Nature. All of that is a recognition of Gratitude that comes from the practice of being grateful. All of that is the product of the Nature Education we have chosen for our children.

I grew up in a pretty conventional 1980’s family. Both of my parents worked, my brother and I went to public school, and we were involved in every extra-curricular activity to which my poor mom could manage to physically drive us. I had a great childhood. My 20’s, however, proved that while I had a fantastic amount of knowledge I seemed to lack a significant amount of common sense and problem solving skills (at least in the real world). But those are stories for around the campfire on another day. After the birth of our 2nd child, the stress and chaos of the rat race had reached maximum capacity. We hit the brakes hard and made a U-turn back to a simpler way of life. (You can read my article in Heartland Living Magazine (pg 66) about how we were Nurtured by Nature in the darkest of times). Like any mom, I often question our decisions. I wonder if we are doing things right. On this day, I’ve never been more sure of the direction our family is going.

I stepped back into the car wiping my tears, called a tow truck, and held my hands out for Gratitude Circle. After lifting up some serious thanks, the kids and I chatted through a plan of action. Our budget wasn't prepared for a costly night in a hotel and restaurant meals. Plus the thought of being holed up in a hotel room with two kids didn't seem enticing either. We were supposed to be heading to a friend's hunting camp. So I hadn't packed all the real camping supplies.  Essentially, it should've been the equivalent of camping in your own backyard for a weekend with the house right there for bathrooms, meal prep, warmth and any other comfort you might need.

"I'm going to find the nearest campsite so we can drop the camper for the night." My son's eyes narrowed.

"We aren't packed for camping," he reminded me. Perceptive little booger.

"No we aren't. But Mother Nature will give us everything we need that we don't have with us."

An hour and a half later, we backed into our little space in the woods and tumbled out of the car. Darkness was about an hour off and we had A LOT to do to make this work. 

"Colt, I need you and Brix to go find stuff we can use to get a fire going. I have my flint and some dryer lint and the bag of bigger logs, but I need more starter and dry sticks. Take your brother. I'll get organized here."

I watched my two little people disappear in the woods singing the new favorite hiking song that I recently wrote… 

  I'm hiking in the Florida Scrub, hiking in the scrub with my Owl Eyes.

  I'm hiking in the Florida Scrub. I'm using my skills, I'm acting wise.

  There's a snake over there as bright as can be. Red, yellow, black- it's a warning I see.

  I keep my distance. I let it be free. A coral snake could be deadly for meeee.

  Let's go, let's go! Discover it all….

They know to sing. We do it often in the woods- to break the monotony, to remember important safety information, to change our attitude, to keep track of each other, to scare off any creatures, to stifle our fears. We sing to know we are in it together. I smile to myself as I go about my work; my Deer Ears track my kids. In a bit, they are back. Their chubby hands are full of sticks and they've used up some nervous energy. My husband is still hours away. The boys and I go through our supplies. We have the 5 gallon water cooler in the back of my car. It stays there, always full, to support spontaneous adventure. We have food basics including meat sticks, trail mix, freeze dried fruit, and the perishables we were taking to hunt camp. We have my tomahawk for basic wood chopping. We have our flint. We have each other. Just a month ago my husband, myself, my two kids, and another family hiked into the woods to primitive camp. We were practicing for an upcoming backpacking adventure. It was our first go of it. In the shadow of that, tonight would be fine dining and the ultimate in creature comfort. 

Despite everything we had experienced on this day, none of it could break us. As I sit here and reflect, I see the map of decisions that brought us to this place. I can see the dots connect. I can see the ceremonies and experiences that have marked safety points in our brains. We can return to these for reassurance. I can see the confidence in my kids as they head into a task knowing they are contributing something important. I can see the flexibility in their brains when we have to find a new direction. I can see the simple joy as they settle into this woods. They've never been here, but they already know it intimately. It's the place they are most comfortable. I can see their dirty feet and I can see the big smiles as they play Eagle Eye (a favorite Nature School game). I can see it all and I know it is good.