This past weekend while we wandered through trails overlooking Vinegar Flats, one of my favorite 5 year-olds told me about a poem she recently wrote in her nature journal. She also explained to me that even though the yellow flowers with brown centers we were seeing everywhere around us looked like daisies, they were not. But both flowers smell bad, so they have that in common.
What makes a kid keep a nature journal? And write poems in it? And know the difference between flowers? I'm sure it doesn't hurt that her mom is a stellar local poet, or that she's super smart--the first time I met this little girl, she was 3 years old and defined sarcasm for me, complete with examples.
In hopes we can raise a kid who keeps a nature journal, I reflected on our chances. My other half has the poet part down, and I think the smarts thing is out of our control. But there is one thing this family does that we can, too: her parents take her and her 3 year-old brother on weekly nature walks. When I heard this (and when I heard her daughter explain to me the small purple flowers I was admiring are called "lupine") I was like, We want in.
What makes a kid keep a nature journal? And write poems in it? And know the difference between flowers? I'm sure it doesn't hurt that her mom is a stellar local poet, or that she's super smart--the first time I met this little girl, she was 3 years old and defined sarcasm for me, complete with examples.
In hopes we can raise a kid who keeps a nature journal, I reflected on our chances. My other half has the poet part down, and I think the smarts thing is out of our control. But there is one thing this family does that we can, too: her parents take her and her 3 year-old brother on weekly nature walks. When I heard this (and when I heard her daughter explain to me the small purple flowers I was admiring are called "lupine") I was like, We want in.
The four of them (mother, father, nature journal keeping daughter, big grinning son) were nice enough in invite us along to Polly Judd Park, a park that Tim and I had "discovered" on a warm day the winter I was pregnant with Beckett, when the sun was warm but the air sharp and ground crystal hard. We hadn't been back since that initial visit and coming in Spring we were even more impressed with this hidden little treasure.
We met up by the playground, promising the kids we would swing and slide and roll around after the hike, then headed south to the trails that run along the bluff. It was a slow walk, stopping to take pictures (these are all by my poet friend, Maya), inspect rocks and tiny flowers, step aside for the random mountain biker (those glorious thigh muscles!), pull up pieces of tall grass, and clean up scraped hands. We like this nature walk thing. And bonus, our now difficult napper of a baby fell asleep on my back. Awe yeah.
We met up by the playground, promising the kids we would swing and slide and roll around after the hike, then headed south to the trails that run along the bluff. It was a slow walk, stopping to take pictures (these are all by my poet friend, Maya), inspect rocks and tiny flowers, step aside for the random mountain biker (those glorious thigh muscles!), pull up pieces of tall grass, and clean up scraped hands. We like this nature walk thing. And bonus, our now difficult napper of a baby fell asleep on my back. Awe yeah.
On the way to the playground, I was telling Maya about my conversation with her daughter: "I think the only thing I'll remember is the Lupin, because, you know, Harry Potter."
Maya laughed and said, "Oh, the lupine. Lupine, like alpine."
Her daughter looked at me and gave me a slow nod and sweet smile that said: "Don't worry city-lady, you'll get the hang of it."
Maya laughed and said, "Oh, the lupine. Lupine, like alpine."
Her daughter looked at me and gave me a slow nod and sweet smile that said: "Don't worry city-lady, you'll get the hang of it."
At the playground, despite the 75 degree weather and fresh spring blooms everywhere, we were the only ones there. Tim said we were some sort of gang, like it was our playground, our turf. We spread out, relaxed and Spring-sun-soaked, eating trail mix, watching our friend's kids receive underdog after underdog on the swings, listening to giggles and removing the odd piece of bark from Beckett's mouth. It was a good day.
There are a lot of parks worth visiting in Spokane, now you can add this one to your list. Take a visit. Maybe you can own the place next time.
There are a lot of parks worth visiting in Spokane, now you can add this one to your list. Take a visit. Maybe you can own the place next time.