Dashiell’s class (Mazama) studied the lifecycle this year; over the last quarter they focused on birds. Wingspans were measured, birds were spotted and identified on campus (and in our back yard–“Hey there’s that scrub jay again!”), eggshells discovered, stored and categorized. The children made their own bird books, complete with checklists to note the birds they’d seen.
Dashiell was particularly interested in an art project that he attempted to keep secret from us for this thematic. However, not able to contain his excitement, he would give me sneak-peaks after hours, escorting me into the empty classroom and proudly showing off his labors. He doesn’t usually get very excited about anything he makes at school; something about his this project really resonated with him, and took up residence in his soul.
This week we made a trip to Fred Meyer to buy a special Lego toy (for a sick boy, croup filled, bleary eyed). While there we picked up some plants on sale, purple Salvia, noted for attracting hummingbirds and butterflies. D helped me plant them in a good spot, where we could be sure to see any visitors from the house. Later that same evening, while D was upstairs getting bathed and jammied, I saw a hummingbird visit the newly planted salvia as I did the washing up from the kitchen window. In his darkened room, after story time, I told him about the hummingbird, and he threw his arms around me in happiness.
To reveal the surprise project, click the “play” icon in the video control below:
You know, his kind soul just brings tears to my eyes. His pure joy over a visit from a hummingbird to enjoy the nectar of your new plants shows how in tune he is with things beyond himself. He is a kindred spirit now to that bird.
So true. He has bonded with those tiny creatures, it is so sweet.
We try to really emphasize that all life is sacred and everything is here for a reason, even the animals we perceive as “bad” like wasps (who recently took up residence on our eaves). I told D that without wasps we wouldn’t have a cool vehicle like a Vespa (Italian for wasp!) and we’d have a lot more mosquitos too…