Nature At Its Basic Element

Enter the preschool adventure:

Squealing, screaming voices emitting sheer joy.
Frolicking, our golden-haired cherubs–Justin, Kaleb, Jesse, Courtne;
quietly whispering to avoid startling the wildlife.
Baby Kyle snuggled deeply, as is twin brother Cam,
within their soft corduroy carriers;
carried by us, the mothers, the teachers.
Sweet soft baby heads smothered with kisses.

All is quiet.
All is still, under the towering trees with branches
forming a luscious green canopy.
As sunlight dances through the leaves,
warm patches hiding in the cool dark trail catch us unawares.
Hot sunlight strikes us-growing glistening beads of sweat from our skin.
Lush foilage rustles with the presence of a chilling cool breeze.
Brilliant wildflowers catch our sight.

Now, clenched in chubby fists-purple thistle-daisies-violets
true innocent gifts of love,
the best kind to warm our hearts.
Breezes waft appealing essences within our reach:
earthy wildflowers, sweet wild strawberries, crisp mint leaves.
Yet in hushed undertones, the dank, musty smell of logs
and leaves decaying permeates from the marshy ground.

The gurgling, laughing clear brook
competes with a symphony of croaking frogs.
Melodious twittering of birds fills the air.
All around, willow branches delicately brushing the ground.
Still pool, smooth pebble lined bed,
mucky ground sucking at our sneakers.

We investigate the tracks of thirsty and hungry animals;
thoughts of tiny bunnies munching
on purple thistle and green clover occur.
The children stare in wonder
where the animals once stood in hunger and thirst.

Basic element of nature.
The twins secure, sound asleep.
Hushed whispers.
Feel the comfortable warmth of Kyle’s little body.
Listening.
Learning.
Loving.

Nature’s basic elements.
Grab a tree, feel the rough textured bark.
Hug a tree.
Love a tree.
Live through a tree filled with mystery.
Arched gnarled roots forming secret passageways,
mystical magical places for wood fairies to reside in.
Admire the mystery of the tree.

Stillness.
Broken by a woodpecker’s tapping
with machine gun rapidness.
Restless children.
Cherubs scramble to swing and slide.
We, the mothers, the teachers,
plop down exhausted smiling and sighing a contented sigh.
Each contends with a starving twin.

A basic element of nature;
as they, the children, the students, nonchalantly play.

Exit the preschool adventure.

(c) 1998 Shelley Mousseau All Rights Reserved

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