Sprouts: September 17, 2026

The Sprouts trickled in on Thursday morning and we eased into the day by chatting, catching up, and settling into play. Two of the girls helped me fill the bird feeders, and before long we gathered for our morning meeting to talk about what we might want to do with our day.

Our conversations have a tendency to wander in interesting directions. One boy shared that there was a dead squirrel at his house. Another immediately guessed that maybe it had been run over by a car. When he learned that the squirrel was actually lying on the grass in the backyard, that theory had to be reconsidered.

I love listening to these kinds of conversations. The kids offer ideas based on what they know, listen when someone gives them new information, and then adjust their thinking. Sometimes the topic is squirrels, sometimes it is weather, bugs, rivers, or something completely unexpected.

We also had a bigger decision to make: should we stay at Heron Tree Estates for the morning, or head out on an adventure?

We voted, and staying put won.

So our free play continued. Kids built with blocks, worked in the mud kitchen, swung on the rope swing, and made Perler bead creations. Two newer friends who had started out working on beads together soon discovered some common interests and became completely absorbed in conversation. It was lovely watching a new friendship begin to take shape without any help from the grown-ups.

Eventually my resident bookworm requested a story and chose Alligator Stew, a collection of silly poems. Story time was completely optional, but one by one the other children wandered over until every single Sprout was gathered around listening.

Sometimes that is how the best group moments happen. Nobody is told they have to join. Something is simply interesting enough that the group gathers itself.

Later we decided we were ready for an adventure after all and headed across the bridge toward Cardinal Hill. Along the way, the kids picked up garbage they spotted and stopped to make wishes on dandelions.

At Cardinal Hill, climbing the retaining wall quickly became one of the main attractions. The kids worked out where to put their hands and feet, how high they felt comfortable climbing, and how to move their bodies safely when they were off the ground. There was plenty of physical challenge, but also lots of natural risk assessment happening as they figured out their own limits.

Further into the hilly wooded area we found mushrooms and moss, as well as what some of the kids were fairly certain might be a tunnel leading to an ancient civilization.

It was, technically, a hole underneath a log.

But I suppose every ancient civilization has to start somewhere.

On our walk back, two girls spotted a dead squirrel. After our morning conversation, it felt strangely fitting that we would come across one ourselves. Everyone gathered around to look carefully and offer guesses about what might have happened.

One girl said, “I feel sad that the squirrel is dead.”

There was curiosity, but also tenderness. The kids were interested in examining what they had found without losing sight of the fact that it had been a living animal.

We eventually made our way back to Dandelion Hill, where the kids rolled and raced one another down the slope before stopping at the park. There, a piece of rope became first a tug-of-war rope and then something to hang from. As usual, the children found several uses for one simple material.

Back at Heron Tree Estates, we reached one of the less glamorous parts of forest school: cleanup.

Some children jumped in and helped, while others chose not to participate. Later, while we worked on nature journals, we talked together about what happens when some members of a community do the work and others don't.

I didn't name anyone or single anyone out. Instead, I asked the group what they thought was fair.

Their ideas were wonderfully varied.

Not allowing someone to come back to forest school seemed too harsh. One child suggested maybe you wouldn't invite that person to your birthday party, while another immediately said they would still invite them to theirs.

They also talked about the difference between someone not helping because they were hurt and someone simply deciding they didn't feel like helping.

Eventually one child pointed out that everyone loves the rope swing and wondered if someone who chose not to help clean up should lose their turn on it.

We didn't need to arrive at a perfect answer. What mattered was the conversation itself. The kids were thinking about fairness, responsibility, individual circumstances, and what we owe one another when we are part of a group.

It felt like a fitting way to finish a day that had included new friendships, shared stories, adventurous climbing, dead squirrels, ancient civilizations, dandelion wishes, and plenty of room for the Sprouts to shape the day themselves.

Thanks for a great day, Sprouts!