We nearly went in to town on a saturday afternoon. We saw the sunshine and the blue sky and realised we couldn't waste this opportunity to get outside. Three children walking around shops on a busy afternoon in town is not really my idea of a good time. Watching them become totally absorbed in their game of den-building and mud-mixing is my idea of a wonderful time. Sticks were carefully placed to an already existing structure, the mud was mixed with some water to make "ice-cream and beef"! We stayed at a distance with the littl'un. We marvelled at how much they were enjoying themselves, they could have stayed all day, I could have watched them all day. There was no arguing, no hitting, no technology, no toys, no whining. Just pure, all-consuming play.
They were children in their natural habitat, doing what they do best. We were just the facilitators, we got them there, we supervised them, I washed the mud out of their clothes that night. It was a beautiful reminder that children really don't need that much to enjoy themselves, to express themselves, to 'be' themselves. (So why did we spend so much at Christmas?) From where I was standing they just looked so content and so alive and all they cared about was this very blissful moment. I was reluctant to burst the bubble and announce it was home time, but they came, mud-smeared, rosy cheeked and nourished in a very natural way.
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