Nothing

"What did you do at school today?"

"nothing"

"Did you sing any songs?"

"nope"

"Did your teacher tell you any stories?"

"no, she never does"

"Did you hike anywhere?"

"no"

"Who did you play with?"

"no one plays with me ever"

At Oak Hill we are proud to say, we do nothing. The more rambunctious they are as they fly out of their vehicles into our arms, the more dysregulated the group is as we attempt to corral them for our morning greeting circle,  the less we do!

After our Morning Verse accompanied by a big Joyful Jump to 'greet the morning sun', we will do some mindfulness exercises; close our eyes and breathe. What can we hear? Voices resting, just listen! Can you hear the creek? The mourning doves? the ravens? Let's have one minute of golden silence; turn your face to the sun, close your eyes and just feel the warmth on your cheeks..... breathe in, smell the rose, blow it out through your mouth, blow out the candle......

Now it's time for some yoga, reach up high, tickle the clouds! Now slowly bend down, tickle the grass with your finger tips! Some stars, triangles,  some cat cow poses on all fours, a bridge, a tree pose with a partner for balance, now let's be lizards on rocks. 

Ok, that's enough yoga, time to get going. 

"Please make a nice tidy line of backpacks along the fence"  14-16 minutes later, all backpacks are lined up, three pairs of mittens have been replaced, two friends have gone to the bathroom, one staff member is leading a quick round of 'Mr Wiggle and Mr. Waggle' off to the side to keep the others happy and focused while we wait for everyone to be ready. 

Now, we're going through the gate and across the road! This is when the nothingness begins in earnest!

As we hike, it is never about where we are going. One staff member at the front ("Who may go in front of me?" "Only Mr. Nobody!") and one bringing up the rear. The children run in groups, alone, in pairs, ever changing, merging and dispersing. One friend stops on the path and drops to their knees "A cricket!" Others join, "Lots of crickets!!" "I see one too!" ... 

A few steps on, another child discovers that the fist wild strawberry flower petals are out, and that news brings everyone running to see. 

"Can we go on the Cat Tail Trail?" they call out.. Yes, of course we take the Cat Tail Trail. All eyes are on the swamp, can we see any intact cat tails left over from last fall? "Look! The birds are sitting on the cat tail heads!" "They're building nests with the seeds!" The children all know the familiar lessons, and happily repeat these lines to one another over and over again. Depending on the season their stories and remarks change to mirror what's going on in the natural world around them, but their eyes and ears are open to discoveries and they don't miss a beat. 

Blossoms on the berry bushes, woolly bears crossing the paths ("Look right there, please take care, don't step on the woolly bear!") 

Low flying red wing blackbirds.."Hey guys" one sage 5 1/2 yr old tells everyone, "those birds are squawking at us to move on, they're building their nests low down and they don't know that we are kind and gentle!" 

Spider mite galls on the golden rod stems... "Look, this gall has been pecked open by a hungry chickadee, you can see the hole is bigger on the outside than on the inside!" "But MY gall was opened by the baby spiders!! They escaped, and got away! The hole is teeny tiny look!" The friends all squeal at the thought of those tiny spiders scattering around us where we stand and everyone shivers and they all run on to the next discovery. 

Teachers rarely need to intervene, following the children as they lead the charge, running along the trails, taking 'short cuts' that lead to a bush with a satisfyingly hollowed out 'house' underneath, or steering towards the trail that leads us to the very top of the hill, from where we can see the whole world!  Every milkweed pod along the way is lovingly opened and seeds scattered, if it isn't milkweed season, the children know to appreciate the rare treasure of an intact seed pod in the winter or early spring. "Look what WE found!!" 

At the top of the hill a spontaneous circle leads to a rambunctious game of duck duck goose, or Duck Duck Pig, or whatever animal they feel like being. Some of the children peel off the group and become lions stalking through the goldenrod and meadow grasses. Others start to run around and around the mowed area on the hill top, chasing chasing chasing, everyone chasing everyone!  

Over on one side of the circle, a small group of girls and one or two younger boys start a game of 'family' and everyone is loudly debating who should be what. Cries of 'but I don't WANT to be the dog' carry over to me and I watch from a distance to make sure that they sort it out kindly, which they do. 

And on it goes, with discovery sparking adventures, imagination carrying them along trails, into the woods, across the creek, and back again.  Here and there we stop for a snack, for some songs, for a story, but these moments are folded into their morning together ; time flows organically and seamlessly. 

As their tireless little feet carry them back across the road to the backpacks, back to our base, the children take a drink from their water bottles and disappear again into the area around the mud kitchen. More logs to climb on, more bushes to shelter under, more ridges to run along and stumps for cooking on. The groups continue to change, to merge and disperse, everyone crossing paths with everyone over and over again. Each child has space and freedom to find their 'just right' level of social interaction and comfort within the ever changing dynamic of the whole group. 

At 11:55 I call them over to form our good bye circle and sing our last song. "Already?" they cry. "But we didn't even DO anything!"