They collect chestnuts and bark pieces; they make "dinner" for their families and place it on a hosta leaf. Scampering up a tree, jackets are left behind as the play raises temperatures.
They call for me to sample their cuisine, these natives, and I oblige. I duck under the Japanese Maple where there's a waiting stool and lean in close to the chef. Her hair smells of fresh, autumn air and dirt has already embedded under her fingernails. There is much hollering to one another from across our yard and my youngest cups her hand over her mouth, running and making a deep, ha-wa-wa-wa native sound.
They incorporate their learning into imaginative play and their draw to the lives of the earliest Canadians is strong. I smile when I think that neighbours, who hear war-cries through open windows, must feel like they're stepping back in time. I'm grateful that toys are a distant desire when all four of them put their heads together in their outdoor fun.
5 comments:
Yaay for Canadian history! Fun times! Wish we lived nearer so your four could add my four to their play. Your writing is a beautiful as your photos Heather. :)
Love,
Camille
I just love childhood ingenuity and how they integrate play and learning so effortlessly!
Does Oliver have Native paint markings on his face!?!
Indian cries. . . .love it.
That's my absolute favorite, when toys are a distant desire. What a splendid day.
Oh, and LOVE Oliver's face art!
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