Lately, we have been enjoying:

Swimming at Grandma and Papa’s house. Last week I took a quartet of kids over there and met my brother’s family for an afternoon swim. We’d been having many days in a row over 100 degrees and we were all feeling fried. (I think it got up to 111 degrees one day.) Our home’s AC decided to die during this time, so we were fried and desperate.

Little JuJu called me Tia for the first time. Tia means “Aunt” in Portuguese.

Asher has found his flippers, so to speak. He finished one set of swimming lessons this summer and is now done with fear. Grandma Syd took him to eight lessons as a gift to both him and me. Best! And now he’s a fish, using his new skills joyously, without all the trepidation and worry he used to have. His strokes need work, of course, but I’m sooooooo delighted that he’s enjoying the water now.

Independence Day. We opted to spend the holiday mostly in the pool, after a bit of work time.

We made an Asian noodle salad for dinner, roasted sweet potatoes, and these red-white-and-blue fruit skewers with whipped cream. Simple. Satisfying. Done. It was about all we could handle.

The boys were satisfied with huge packages of sparklers and some front-yard fireworks. The grandparents enjoyed their cavorting. The dog coped better than most dogs. All in all, it was a very relaxing afternoon!

A whole new kind of independence from our older son. This is a strawberry quick bread he made, without a recipe. He didn’t want one. He was only interested in doing it all on his own, so we let him. When the bread was done, he set the table, placed a lily in a vase, and put out matching cloth napkins. The bread was good, though we agreed that the recipe needs some tweaking, such as more baking powder and longer baking.

This independence is also manifesting in his solo runs; herb harvesting, drying, and storing (he now has several glass jars full of dried herbs in his room); and various craft projects, like this star made of spent daylily flower stalks, which I completely adore. He made two and they adorn the side and back fences of our garden.

This summer, Lucas has been sent on his bike with a backpack to the supermarket to buy things we need for the first time, and has traveled to and from friends’ homes on his own. He is itching for more freedom, too. Today we had to talk about not leaving the house early in the morning for a run without telling us. Recently, he made a jigsaw puzzle for his brother—out of wood—using his 4-in-1 woodworking tool!

So, all in all, I would say that, lately, things are good. We are all growing and stretching into new skills and new patterns. I have new clients. Ian has new and exciting pursuits. The summer days are ticking by, but there’s still plenty of time for books and boredom, play dates and deadlines, camping trips and day camp.

Tomorrow marks passage of the first month of summer vacation. I’d say we’re doing it right.

I am a huge fan of books, and children’s books in particular. We have hundreds of books and, well, I’m not sorry. But there comes a time when the right thing to do is to say good-bye.

Last week we got to attend a birthday party for a very special girl, Julia. She turned 3 years old, and the boys and I decided to give her some of our beloved-but-outgrown board books (Brown Bear, Brown Bear, I Love You Little One, and others). To her, each new book was an undiscovered treasure. To us, each one was an old friend moving on, shipping off for new adventures. It was a happy parting of ways, and we know that those books will continue to be loved and used, read and reread over the next several or many years.

Today I sent away a big stack of story books to grandma’s house. My mother has been saying that Asher (6) tends to choose the same baby books at her house, whereas here at home he craves chapter books that we can really get into and enjoy night after night. It’s time for those too-familiar baby books to go, and for new books to be on offer at grandma’s house. Variety is good! I sent over some fairy tale collections and story anthologies, like Seuss and others, which can be read in one bedtime reading session. (And it’s a win for me, too, because I think I cannot read another Seuss story in my life. Seriously. I will die.)

A few months ago we gave cousin Baby Jack a bunch of baby books. Books that my sons loved reading daily (Dig, Dig, Digging!, The Big Red Barn) are staying in the family and that makes us very happy. I’m hoping sometime I’ll get to see Lucas or Asher reading those books to Jack.

I am by no means a Simplicity Hero. We still have plenty of sentimental books in our collection (the photo above shows books we aren’t yet ready to part with). But it does feel good to purge a little because it makes room for new and exciting adventures: Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Norse myths, Septimus Heap, Holes, and so many classics (Robin Hood, Zorro, Wizard of Oz, Robinson Crusoe, The Chronicles of Narnia, The Call of the Wild, The Trumpet of the Swan, Ender’s Game. The possibilities are endless, stretching before us in a river of glorious stories.

What’s on your summer reading list? Any kids’ books?

I am the Sun—
And I bear with my might
The earth by day, the earth by night.
I hold her fast, and my gifts bestow
To everything on her, so that it may grow:
Man and stone, flower and bee,
All receive their light from me.
Open thy heart, dear child, to me,
That we together one light may be.

—Ch. Morgenstern

King Sun he climbs the summer sky
Ascending ever higher.
He mounts his gay midsummer throne,
All made of golden fire.

His flowing mantle, flowing free,
His shining gifts he showers
All golden on the earth and sea,
On men and beasts and flowers.

—J. Aulie

Two poems for this day, this beautiful awe-inspiring day that I have come to appreciate more and more. Somehow, for me this day is full of magic and hope and possibility.

The solstice is the peak moment of the year, the explosion of light and growth. It is the tippy-top of the year’s roller coaster’s path. On the summer solstice we feel an expansion of spirit, the exhalation of breath, and precious moments of busy, joyful living that somehow include relaxation and fun as its top priorities. It doesn’t even seem to matter how much work there is to do, or whether we sit in a cubicle or attend summer classes or dig ditches—this sky-splitting, star-bursting longest day has a kind of dreamy half-remembering quality, a laziness, a whisper that seems to say, “Take heed! The moment is NOW. Don’t miss it! Revel!”

And somehow, people seem to hear it. No other time of year feels this way. Midsummer is special. Spend it however you will, but LIVE IT.

This year, I am realizing a longtime dream of gathering many of my beloved friends in the woods this weekend. I’m hoping for a solstice bonfire and feast to make the gods proud. We will splash and play and get our feet dirty.

And because I feel if there’s ever an instant when magic is real and wishes come true, it is on Midsummer night. And so, here is my wish:

May we grow and flourish, may our roots dig deep and may our minds reach for the illuminating sun.
May we expand our consciousness to include others in our sphere of concern—and not just our loved ones, but also the strangers we interact with every day and all those people on the other side of the world whom we will never meet.
May we learn to see beauty everywhere, for it is there if only we look. Even struggles and tragedy have a kind of beauty.
May we seek to alleviate the suffering of all beings, even ourselves.
May we strive, even though we sometimes fail, and may we fail big and fast to maximize our learning and increase our compassion.
May we hold to our values, but never allow our ideas to petrify.
May we appreciate all that we are with every inhalation, and all that we have with every exhalation.
May we play, and laugh, and hug, and kiss, and dance, and sing—because for what other purpose are we here?
May we love with all our hearts until our flesh becomes one with the earth.
Blessed be.

Happy Solstice!

What better way to kick off summer than to take a vacation? The boys and I drove up to South Lake Tahoe to spend a few days in the woods. Having some time with just the boys was fun, just as I’d hoped. It was special, since we weren’t at home like normal. Ian was able to join us a couple of days later.

I took some work with me—a project that didn’t finish up in time for me to be free and clear of it. Fortunately there’s a Starbucks where I could get my work emails, and download and upload files. Even better, my dear ol’ dad called the next-door neighbor and he generously gave me his wifi network password. It was a bit hoopty, but well worth it. I went out on the deck, pointed my computer at the neighbor’s home, and worked standing with the computer perched on the balcony railing (standing desk?) or sitting at a little iron bistro table. It was totally brilliant and I’m so grateful for this solution; my days with my boys would have been disrupted much more if we had had to spend hours and hours at Starbucks.

We brought the boys’ bows and arrows up with us, and every day we set up targets and practiced shooting. They both LOVE archery. And shooting arrows in an alpine meadow filled with blooming wildflowers and pines and aspens all around doesn’t suck, I tell ya. I’m proud of the boys because they seem really interested in practicing and getting better at archery. It’s a hobby that is well-fueled by their imagination, of course. Fantasy characters like elves and dwarves use bows, and that’s connection and motivation enough!

Naturally we spent some time throwing stones into the creek.

See the caterpillar?

I was a bit nervous taking the kids out of town on my own, but this is my comfortable home away from home and there’s plenty to do near the “cabin.” I have many gorgeous memories of rambling up and down the creeks with my brother and sometimes my cousins. I remember searching for swimming holes, places to fish, and places to dam the water with logs or stones. I remember watching the minnows and dragonflies, of staying out too long and getting sunburned and so, so tired from our adventures. I remember getting lost in the woods and having to find my way back to the house, where my grandmother and grandaunt waited to scold us. Summertime in the Tahoe woods: I wanted to give my boys a taste of this. And I hope to come back and do it again and again.

We asked a local and found an amazing beach that allows dogs and we spent two glorious afternoons there, enjoying the beautiful lake and sky, and meeting plenty of doggie playmates for Solstice. Our sweet dog gets along pretty well with almost all dogs, and that’s a relief.

One animal was so totally wolflike that we were mesmerized by the way she moved. She was lean and furtive, and she wore a purple bandana around her neck; its purpose was clearly to communicate “I am not a wolf. I am a dog and I have people who love me.”

I’m continually surprised by what I don’t know about this beautiful area. We found the Tallac historic village (full of amazing rich people homes from the early 1900s). I had no idea it was there.

We stopped off on the way home at Wrights Lake for a picnic and a swim. This lake is just gorgeous and totally peaceful. Very few people were there and no watercraft with motors are allowed on the lake, so there was nothing to break the serenity of the place—except our own whooping and hollering …

… and Calvin-like dancing.

I took tons of photos for painting reference.

The only problem with this gorgeous campground and lake is that the mosquitoes are prolific and hungry.

Honestly, I can’t think of a nicer way to start the boys’ summer vacation.

I hope you too are enjoying long, lazy days in nature.

Summertime is here! I often wonder how in the world I’m going to fill 13 consecutive weeks of “summer vacation,” and so I tend to start planning early. I’d like to offer up the Midsummer Festival E-Book as a way of filling summertime with festivities and delightful Waldorf-inspired crafts, songs, poems, and more. My coauthor, Eileen Straiton, and warmly I invite you to check out our e-book, and please tell a friend!

Midsummer Festival E-Book Is Now Available!

This wonderful Midsummer Festival E-Book, our labor of love, will bring the magic of summer into your home and help you keep celebrating throughout the season!  It is packed full of Waldorf songs, stories, verses, crafting tutorials and much more to help you celebrate Midsummer and the Summer Solstice with the children in your home, classroom, or childcare environment.

• Read Stories and Fairy Tales Filled with Sunshine to the Children
• Enjoy Verses, Songs, Poems and Fingerplays that Celebrate the Coming of Summer
• Learn about the History, Background and Symbolism of the Summer Solstice
• Get Ideas for How to Create Your Own Meaning of this Special Festival
• Enjoy a Solstice Feast
• Play Solstice Games
• Make a Midsummer Bonfire
• Create Simple Beeswax Suns with the Children
• Make a Solstice Wreath for the Birds
• Design Midsummer String Art Sunbursts
• Read a Story of The Sun Child and Create a Sun Child Necklace
• Craft a Shiny Garden Suncatcher
• Use a Rock Garden Sundial to Tell Time in Your Garden
• Make a Catch the Sun Throw Toy for Your Child
• Create a Paper Solstice Sun
• Read How to Create Daytime and Nightime Midsummer Magic
• Hang Summer Solstice Flags Indoors or Outdoors this Season
• Plant a Midsummer Indoor Herb Garden
• Craft a Sun Mosaic Birdbath
• Make a Sunshine Fairy out of Wool Roving and Felt
• Sew and Stuff Herbal Dream Pillows for St. John’s Eve
• Needle Felt a Summer Sun Wall Hanging
• Create Sweet Pocket Sun Sprites for the Children
• Bake Sun Bread with the Children
• Go on a Sun Hunt
• Make a Sun Mask
• Design a Sunshine Banner
• Crochet Sun Medallion Necklaces

We’re in the final stretch of the school year. My kids are about to change overnight from Kindergartner and fifth grader to first grader and sixth grader. These last few days at school are spent packing up the classroom and moving items into the sixth grade room, horsing around, and enjoying lots of time with friends. The Kindergartners will spend as much of the next two days as possible outside. On Friday we’ll go to an annual end-of-year party at the home of one of Lucas’s classmates, where we always celebrate with style and great joy.

In a way, it’s no small accomplishment that they’ve completed this year. Their challenges may seem small compared to those that adults experience, but they are significant for the children.

My little Asher has grown from a somewhat shy baby to a confident, clowning boy of the world in the two years he’s been in Kindergarten. He is highly social, a great listener and storyteller, a good friend, a very fast runner, a heartthrob, and a proficient helper. He has mad cleanup skills now, thanks to Kindergarten, and his art has moved lightyears ahead of where it was even just a few months ago. I see so many signs in him that he is ready, that he’s “graduating” and moving on to first grade.

Yesterday we gathered in the Kindergarten yard to celebrate and watch the “olders” from both the White Rose and the Red Rose Kindergarten classes join together with their new first-grade teacher and ceremonially walk over to the first-grade classroom.

The parents created an arch over the walkway and the new teacher, Miss H, led them under it.

Many of the children were all smiles, several were nervous, several were super goofy; mine was, for this moment at least, acting jaded when he saw me and Daddy. But I saw him scampering along with the rest of the children, clearly enjoying himself.

They crossed the campus to the first grade, little ducklings all in a row.

It’s exciting to see these kids growing and changing, some of whom we’ve known since they were babies. This group has been playing together for a long time. And for Ian and me, there are so many new friends to make!

We parents got to wait and visit with each other until the “rising first graders” returned. Of course, the current first graders aren’t actually ready to relinquish their classroom, and our kids came back to their yard and classrooms to finish out the week.

Lucas, at 11, is finishing up a glorious, fifth-grade year, what some call the “golden year” of the school-age child. He reveled in woodworking, learned to enjoy orchestra class and playing his violin, improved in all subjects, and ached all year for their study of the Greeks to begin and then soaked up every morsel of it once it did. He trained his body all year to compete in the Pentathlon, and has continued to do so since the big day. He is every day more independent and competent and it’s a both joy to see and a huge help in my life. I’ve been experiencing some nostalgia lately because I’ve been going through old photos and working on our end-of-year gift to his departing class teacher, our beloved Ms. D, who is retiring this year. My how these fifth-graders have changed!

And my son is eager for new, exciting experiences, more alone time, more time away from his little brother, and more responsibility (specifically when and only when he wants it). I am highly cognizant of this and am working to find him experiences that stretch his previous limits. I’m thinking of it as measured risk-taking.

And so, summertime is almost here. I can see it in all the children. They are boundless and expansive and loud, as if their spirits are no longer contained within their bodies. The teachers look both pleased and tired. The parents … well, there is a kind of “oh, I can’t wait for summer” on their lips or behind their eyes. And I kind of get it.

Now, in the interest of honest, full disclosure, I admit to feeling great trepidation about the coming 13 weeks of summer vacation. 13. 13 weeks. That’s a lot of days. I always feel this way at the end of the school year. The eagerness I felt for summer as a child is very different from how I feel now that I’m a parent. I have some excitement and daydreams and some wonderful plans for us, but I also know that it won’t be a huge bowl of cherries every day.

The boys will be engaged in any number of wonderful activities and play. Swim and summer camp and weekend camping. They will be blessed with the “gift of boredom” and plenty of nature time and unscheduled time. They will do chores. They will bicker and negotiate and hurt each other and cooperate—all of which is essential to both their growth as humans and their relationship as brothers.

We will make the most of it, the best we can. And we will learn so much. We will all soak up all that Summer has to give us, and we will level up.

What a day! Last Friday we attended with Pentathlon for all area Waldorf schools’ fifth graders. It was held a Live Oak Waldorf School in Meadow Vista and it was nothing short of spectacular in every way. Honestly, I couldn’t be more impressed with the way this event came together. Approximately 300 fifth graders from 12 classes joined together in a spirit of peace to compete in five athletic events. This is the culmination of their studies of the Ancient Greeks and Greek mythology. They have studied and trained hard for these celebratory games.

Before the games began, there was a very stirring opening ceremony. Prior to arrival, the children were divided into five Greek city states, depending on temperament, and each had its own color. So our class of 26 competitors went into five different cities. Each city had a set of parent and teacher judges, who were specially trained before the Pentathlon to judge the five athletic events.

They rang a gong to quiet the crowd. We were welcomed to this special day of fellowship and competition. Musicians played lyres and sang. The Olympian gods were invited to witness. The children chanted and sang in both Greek and English, in honor of the gods.

The gods were invoked to bless the event and to inspire the athletes to do their very best, to let their highest selves come forward in their conduct for the day. Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Zeus, Athena, and Apollo each gave speeches, calling on the athletes to hold in their hearts peace, beauty, courage, compassion, fairness, friendship, and good sportsmanship. I just let the tears roll down my face. It was perfect. (Thomas, Janelle, Suzi, Steve, Anne, Sandy—I wish you could have seen this!)

As part of their main lesson studies in class, each class wrote odes to the gods, and then chose one student to read his or her ode aloud to all assembled on this special day. The poems were marvelous and full of epithets for the gods and imagery evocative of the Homeric hymns. The whole ceremony set a beautiful tone for the day and by the time it was done, there was no doubt in my mind that these kids were transported in spirit, and were the embodiment of the Greek ideal of ἀρετή—excellence—for the duration of the Pentathlon.

Then the athletes processed, carrying flags of the color of their city state, around the entire field.

In the center of the field, the gods assembled around a giant torch. A child ran a small torch around the length of the field, entered the center, and then Zeus lit the big torch to officially begin the games. Such pageantry! Such effort! They really spared no expense to make this day a marvel.

Naturally, Ian and I followed our own sweet fifth grader around and snapped shots of him competing. (He’s in dark blue with a ponytail.) I also tried really hard to get pictures of all the fifth graders from Sacramento Waldorf School. I don’t know how to say it really—they were truly inspiring. They gave it their all.

I know for a fact that our fifth graders have been training all year for these events. They had great form and confidence, having practiced discus and javelin, long jump, and both dashes and long runs.

After each event was done, the whole city state trooped up to Mount Olympus to receive the awards of the gods. Laurel wreaths were given for first, second, and third place. And two wreaths were awarded to athletes who exhibited excellence in Beauty, Grace, and Style.

These children just flew!

Lucas won a laurel wreath for Beauty, Grace, and Style in the long run, which was a race around the entire field. I am so proud of him!

Javelin was the final event and all four corners of the field were used at the same time. Hay bales were put up to separate the areas. Here is Lucas getting ready to throw the javelin. Both of his throws were good and stuck, making them count. For a little while he was in first place, but then other children got greater distance with their throws. I think Lucas would really like to continue with this sport.

Every athlete received a medal for participating. Some kids won several wreaths; many won none. But I think everyone had an amazing day.

There was a closing ceremony, of course. The gods were thanked for attending. Each of them spoke about the noble qualities they saw in the children: perseverance, bravery, honor, kindness, fellowship. They chose a winning ode, and one more laurel wreath was awarded to the poet.

The day was challenging, long, and tiring for the athletes. They were physically competing from about 10 to 4, which is a long time for 11- and 12-year-olds to stay focused and follow the rules. They comported themselves with such maturity and determination, even when struggling or disappointed, and also with camaraderie and good spirit. Oh, the GLORY!

There’s a lot of that going on around me and inside me. I have had so many great posts brewing in my mind lately, but have managed to get exactly none of them onto this blog, for lots of reasons. I wanted to write about Earth Day, and about our first trip to the SCA, and so many other things. I have been otherwise occupied with important things, though beyond work and family and service to others, I’m not sure I could tell you what they were.

At the moment, I’m sick, although I feel a bit better than I did yesterday afternoon, when I was feverish and achy.

Yesterday was my sweet son’s eleventh birthday, and I can tell you it did not fall neatly into “perfect” like I had hoped.

He, too, was sick and stayed home from school for two days, including his birthday. This was disappointing because one always gets special attention on one’s birthday. I felt so bad for him, missing that opportunity. So, yeah. Imperfect. We managed to give him his gifts in the morning, and before I got ill I cooked him a special breakfast.

Ian came home from work for a while to stay with him when I went out. They finished watching “The Two Towers,” which is something they can do only when Asher is not at home, so there were a few perks to the day. But no cake and ice cream. No dinner out at the restaurant of his choice. We improvised the best we could. Ian went out for take-out Chinese food and brought home ice-cream sandwiches for the boys.

He woke up to this—a cool new mountain bike with 24-inch tires and, like, a 100 gears or something. 21? And his collection of dragon books grew considerably.

Grandpa gave him a nifty LEGO Darth Vader headlamp. You know, for reading under the covers late at night.

So while this birthday didn’t meet my expectations, it was OK. It was imperfect and still joyful. Eleven is rather mature, I’ve decided. Although Lucas was sad when we took his temp and told him he couldn’t go to school, he adapted to the new plan of staying home relatively quickly. He understood when I worked a bit during the day. He understood when I napped. He understood when I collapsed on the couch at 5 p.m. and started mumbling with fever. He took it in stride. There were plenty of snuggles.

And as the day wore on, I was well mothered by my sweet children, who told me they were worried about me, and wished I was feeling well. It’s so wonderful to see how they express care and concern and empathy for me at times like this. It makes me feel like we’re doing a great job in raising them. (Thank you, Ian, for doing all the heavy lifting of the evening.)

I’m glad that Lucas is well again. He trooped off to school today, with his violin and a big box of homemade chocolate chip cookies to share with his class in celebration of his birthday. (I’m grateful that I made those on Tuesday night so they were ready to go this morning.) And I am home today, recuperating, with some opportunity to reflect.

I’m sure all of this “perfect” silliness is all in my head. I’m the one with the major expectations. I wanted to post yesterday about May Day. The fact that Lucas’s birthday is on Beltane has elevated this holiday to one of my very favorites. This is a busy, beautiful time of year. The flowers, the celebrations, the handsome, growing boy—to me they are all so life-affirming and glorious. I feel alive and in love with everything at this time of year. Normally.

But things don’t go perfectly, and the trouble with expectations as we all know is that they lead directly to disappointment. I’m learning to live with imperfection. It’s not easy for me because I. Want. Things. Just. So.  But I am learning to take pleasure in little things, year by year. It seems to be one of my great lessons in this life. And so I look. And I listen. And I learn a little more. And I find all the joy I can in all these many imperfect moments.

Happy May, my friends. I’ll be back here again soon. Until then, enjoy.

We were blessed with wonderful house guests this past weekend—friends who were willing to fall into our family rhythm and enjoy some simple pleasures like home meals and nature walks.

There’s nothing like Sacramento in April.

We were able to show them a bit around our neck of the woods, with Lucas bravely leading the way and showing us what all the Waldorf kids know about this stretch of the American River Parkway—like this awesome rope swing …

… and Grandfather Oak, which is simply enormous.

We marched along the cliffs, watching bathers in the river below. Christyn and I geeked about wildflowers a bit. Lucas showed us all the wild fennel. Asher made sure we were aware of the area the kids call “Coyote Cafe.”

We found the pond and watched some Canada geese. Asher got stuck in some deep sloppy mud and Lucas rescued him. Big brothers are great like that!

On the way back we saw a handsome rattlesnake in our path. It was at least three feet long. Lucas saved us then, too, for he was the one to spot it. We were fortunate our fluffy dog was too ditzy to notice and try to mess with it.

After a superb brunch of Dutch baby (pancakes) with fresh fruit, during which we scientifically compared Brian’s family recipe to one from the Organic Family Cookbook, we lazed about for a while and then drove up the hill to the Horton Iris Farm.

It was really fun to share this place with my boys and my friends. Christyn, Brian, and I share a love of gardening and chatting about plants with them was wonderful. We enjoyed finding some unusual specimens.

I ordered this one for later this year. It’s called “Main Street.” I also ordered one that Lucas really liked, “Persian Berry,” and “Fade to Black,” which was Ian’s pick. I wrote down about a dozen names of irises I loved.

I haven’t been to Horton Iris Farm since last May when I went with my mom. I bought her a yellow iris as a gift.

Anyway, it was a lovely, relaxing weekend and I’m still trying to gear up for all the tasks ahead of me this week. Hope you enjoyed the phone photos. Happy Earth Day, everyone. (We’re going with Earth Week around here.)

Back in the fall, Lucas’s fifth grade class at Waldorf school started a main lesson block on botany. They have revisited the subject since then and are enjoying another botany block now, but I just rediscovered these photos that Lucas took on a field trip to Big Trees State Park in Calaveras county.

They rode with parent chauffeurs the three-hour trip to Calaveras county. I think they stopped for a picnic lunch on the way.

This state park is one of the few giant old-growth redwood groves left. The trees are so big they don’t fit in the frame, and these are the little ones. These photos are some of the best shots that Lucas took with an old digital camera of mine that hadn’t worked in years. For some miraculous reason, it decided to operate for this trip. (It hasn’t worked since then, though. Go figure!)

Forest dogwood burning in the autumn light.

It’s interesting to me to see what Lucas photographed. There are lots of too-blurry images and goofy pics of friends clowning around, of course. They spent some time in the visitors’ center as well as on the trail, listening to a tour guide tell them about the giant redwoods, and how the forest was exploited by loggers before it became protected.

I’m so grateful he has amazing learning opportunities like these.

In his current block he’s studying conifers and monocotyledon and dicotyledon plants. (These whopper words are on his spelling list for the week, along with cruciferous, anemophilous, sulphur, and taproot!) Last week his fifth-grade class visited the UC Davis Botanical Conservatory and looked at a huge collection of plants,  including carnivorous plants, cacti, tropical vines and their many pollinators. I’m told it was a wonderful field trip. At school they have the adjacent woods to explore and study, and the school farm and orchard as their classrooms.

I may have to pop in to see Lucas’s botany main lesson book. I’m totally curious.