Nature; the Best Part of Education for Children

There’s a river called the “Russian” in Cal-i-forn “e” “i” “a.” When we were little, mom took us and like ducklings we followed.

It was there we learned about trust. Each day it got so hot that the baked asphalt road melted onto the soles of our feet. Fluffy sand, round pebbles and cool water were created by Mother Nature. Down to Mother’s Beach we galloped to where secret surprises waited.

Each visit brought us a deeper understanding of life for it was a location of unbridled exploration. My sister was the best for we never argued and she encouraged. All along the way experiences taught us to be brave!

One day, mom spotted an abandoned apple tree all alone on an empty plot of land. As I looked up, it’s bounty of green was just out of my reach. Sticks helped slap the round fruit. We gathered up only what we could eat. An old man told us an old man told him the tree was old. Once a house was there but the river took it. This led us to wonder, how a house could walk away.

One summer someone bought the apple tree land. We never saw them. They built a real log cabin with chiseled shiny logs to go with the forest and the tree. It was a grand tight cozy structure. The months to come brought unexpected winter rains with thunder and flood.

When summer arrived the log cabin had vanished. It must have floated slowly away inch by inch with the rising waters. Dependable gravity just decided to give up and let it go. Without anyone seeing, like a matchbox it slid off its foundation and giggled as the water lifted it silently away.

All mistakes of construction were now gone as it merrily floated down the river it silently bobbing without rudder then it rolled on its side and became boat. When it rested on the mud banks there really was in no rush for it would get going again with more rains.

Picking up steam it moved without a care just clearing the Hacienda Bridge. Down the river it continued past Korbel Winery and then through the Bohemian Grove. Stealthily riding majestically on top of the rippled current with air holding it afloat, it rolled past the little town of Duncan Mills and arrived to its destination at Jenner by the sea.

The next summer we wondered if out tree would still be there. A sigh of relief came over us, It simply held its breath during the flood and the water tickled the roots. The branches were like arms cradling the apples to us.

Once someone posted signs which yelled “NO TRESSPASSING.” The nerve of them trying to claim our water’s edge. The community peacefully went to court to demand it be made a forever beach. My mom spoke to the judge and signed papers. I could not believe she was so powerful and an activist by nature. At the ruling it was pronounced that it would become a public beach so kids in canoes, inner tubes and floating mattresses would have their forever access.

I began to understand how the elements of winter rains, nutrient soil, and sunlight combined with the nighttime dew helped shape its fruit. I would rub off the dust of each apple on my swim trunks before biting in.

The taste of the fruit was tart and I would chew it and move the rough skin to a cheek. I’d eat the juicy parts and spit out the skin for the ants. Maybe Luther Burbank made this tree with his grafting for he lived nearby long ago and gave seedlings away. He believed the best education for a child was to play in nature. These were some of my classes in nature.

The river molded me and played a hand in who I became. I remember sneaking up on a crayfish only to have him dart back at me between my legs. How was I supposed to know he ran backwards? Sticking my feet into quicksand along the banks, they would be stuck solid like a Rodin sculpture. Into the blue wet clay they went creating the exhilarating chore of working them out of the quicksand. I learned to fight my fear by putting my hand in holes to capture toads the size of softballs. Fish catching taught me patience with use of Mepps spinner lures. The string tied, the pole bent, the line taunt, reeling in I learned to play the line and inevitably pulled the fish out of water to take the hook out of its mouth.

I could fall and nothing hurt nor did I care. Working to capture a clumsy pollywog I never would believe it to be a baby frog. I witnessed mysterious sun bathing turtles slip into water. Wild liquorish plant was everywhere and its smothering scent cleansed my soul. Gliding on my bike with its silver metallic banana seat I did not know how to become tired in the first ten years of my life.

Hearing catchy transistor radio songs of restless romance, finding out about poison oak the hard way was all were part of my schooling. Foraging for sunbaked plump blackberries in secret areas I learned to avoid their thorns with my purple stained hands. Our family filled metal strainers full of them. Everyone asked mom to be sure to add more sugar “pleeeease!” Mmmm, warm pie, vanilla ice cream, there is a God.

Swimming underwater to find how long I could hold my breath while propelling down to the enchanting bottom taught me to put my hands out to protect my head. I knew limbs of fallen trees could reach out, capture me and I could get stuck. Stories of drownings only made me stronger.

Hearing “don’t let go” while standing on the clay river bank holding a strong questionable rope tied to an overhanging tree was my baptism. Everyone smiling, even the tough guys, I would pick just the precise moment when to let go and fall into the water where bubbles flowed smoothly out my nose.

Throwing mud at the backs of my enemies was rewarding. Plastic sun lotion bottles of Coppertone acted as water guns and the smell of the lotion was simply intoxicating. After long swims we always had a green apple to choose from. The tree was always gently speaking to us. It mysteriously called out to my mom too. Only some people could hear its voice. She and the tree taught us about freedom. Simple hugs from my mom and dad made me happy inside. The tree occasionally caressed my hair as I walked under it. One day I heard it whisper “Enjoy your life and take what you can grab.” I’m sure the tree said to my mom “Visit and play and bring your children along, take what you want today and come back each summer and be sure to play.”