by Sarah Haggerty
Today, while traffic on Roxboro Road rushes past and the working world speeds by, life at the park is moving according to its own pace. The ironwood trees are dropping their seeds, yellow bellied sliders are basking on sunlit logs, deer are browsing on hearts-a-bustin’ bushes, and children are wading in the Eno River in search of crawdads. These children are playing in the river in much the same way children might have done two hundred years ago, five hundred years ago, or a thousand years ago. Today, while our modern lives are different, there still remains some things that cannot be searched for on the internet, seen on tv, or found indoors, and that must be personally discovered in order to be fully appreciated.
Nature is the greatest of teachers. We are all here to participate in the process of learning. No matter how much we learn or how much we come to know, nature teaches us that we are barely scratching the surface.
Nature is not a thing which can be known and memorized. Many people that we see in our programs can repeat volumes of information about nature, but they do not notice the sound of birds calling or the feeling of the wind on their skin. They do not notice these things until they are encouraged to notice them.
Each of us at every moment has the opportunity to reclaim the lost art of awareness. Right now the crows are calling from their perches in the walnut trees. Right now the leaves of the tulip poplar trees are spinning to the ground. Right now the cicadas are humming in the meadow. This awareness is what we are missing—what all of us are missing - adults and children alike.
Awareness cannot be taught. It can only be encouraged. This is our goal: to cultivate within ourselves a continual awakening of our senses, an acute sense of belonging to the land, an intense desire to learn, and constant participation in the mysteries of life.
There are few places in this fast-paced world where children and adults can come together to celebrate these mysteries; to search for crayfish, to watch leaves falling, to listen to bird calls, to spend all day immersed in nature, to get in the river and feel the wind and water rise up to meet them. The places where children can enjoy natural, creative play in the outdoors are precious and rare. I am proud that Schoolhouse of Wonder is one such place. I am thankful for all of the adults and children who come together to make Schoolhouse the rare place that it has always been. As Richard Louv writes, “we have such a brief opportunity to pass on to our children our love for this Earth and to tell our stories. These are the moments when the world is made whole.”