We went to story time this morning instead of going for our usual walk at the park. And then we did various things inside and then we took a family nap. So by the time we woke up at 4, Revel ran straight to the door asking to go outside.
I figured I’d bundle us up and we would head to my new sit spot, at the edge of the neighborhood, at the edge of the cemetery, next to the monsanto corn, near the singing trees.
But at the entrance of the cemetery, Revel, cozy in his stroller, tiny mittens on his little hands, burst into tears. So I stopped and hugged and kissed him, and asked him a bunch of questions like, “do you want to get out?”, and “Do you want some milkies?” and “Are you cold?” and finally realized that he wanted to go to the park with the playground, where we usually go walking in the morning. That he was trying to say he was not in the mood to go with me to my spot.
And then I realized that Revel has his OWN spot, it’s the park where we go walking, and that’s where he wanted me to take him.
So that’s where we went.
Revel’s spot is all vanilla skies, sandy ballfields, and open meadows. It’s where the baby groundhogs play in the spring, and where the mullberries ripen first in early summer.
It has sky-high slides, and sandy baseball diamonds, perfect for tracking. We study the marks our stomping feet leave on the ground; look at the impressions the doggies make as they chase one another and wrestle in the dust.
We lay on our bellies and look at the ants, and when the weather was warm, we practiced catching crickets. The squirrels feast on the Black Walnuts and the acorns on the edge of the fields; we watch them eating and imitate the tsk, tsk, tsk of their chewing, I instruct Revel NOT TO PUT ACORNS IN YOUR MOUTH! and he laughs and runs away, arms swinging, curls blowing in the wind.
At Revel’s spot we dig in the dirt, and poke leaves with sticks, and listen to the calls of the blue jay. We watch the way the sparrows fly to their perches when the prowling cat comes through with its’ swishing tail, and marvel at the war cries of the crows mobbing the red tail hawk. And we point to every plane in the sky.
We don’t do much sitting, unless its time for milkies, and then we pause, his cool hand brushing my warm neck, snuggled together, all hats, and scarves, coats and mittens.
At Revel’s spot we run, we jump, we sing, we PLAY.
We connect to the land with light hearts, and happy spirits.
So now I have my new sit spot, at the edge of the neighborhood, at the edge of the cemetery, near the Monsanto corn, next to the singing trees.
And Revel has his new sit spot, with vanilla skies, and sandy ballfields, and open meadows. It’s where the baby groundhogs play in the spring, and where the mullberries ripen first in early summer.
And Wil has his new sit spot, next to the creek where the coltsfoot grows, where the yellow leaves fall like so many piles of gold.
And they’re all near our house, within walking distance, so we can go to them frequently.
And when we come home from our separate adventures we share stories, and ask questions, and describe colors, and imitate sounds. Our hands flutter like birds’ wings, our talk is loud and excited. We listen to one another.
And with cheeks still pink from the cold we look in our field guides, and identify plants, and trees, and birds, and write about them in our notebooks. And we show Revel all the pictures so he can start to recognize the patterns; of the bark, of the feathers, of the deer tracks.
Revel and Wil are my accountability partners. They motivate me to see more, watch more, become more aware. So that even if it’s cold, or raining, even if I’m tired, or sad, or cranky, I want to go outside, find treasures to share with them, find stories I know they will delight in.
Identify your accountability partner or partners. Tell them they are important to you, ask them if they’ll embark on this magnificent journey with you.
And in this way our sit spots will not only allow us to connect to our landbase,
but to one another too.
And that’s how the culture of rebellion will continue to grow, and grow.
And, of course, we will continue to encourage, and inspire, and connect with one another through this project, through this blog, and through this amazing web.
Thank you for doing this with me.
Thank you for listening,