“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”
– John Muir
There was a field behind our house when we first moved in. At least I thought it was a field – from a distance it was tall tan grass, so I always put it in the field category.
While I wasn’t paying attention that field grew until it was taller than my children’s heads. It’s made of brush and twig sized trees and just a bit of grass, otherwise known as an outdoor child’s paradise. The options were endless…play hide and seek under cover, duck back in the brush to create worlds that only spin from a child’s imagination…hours and hours of entertainment, right behind the house.
The kids even put in serious time to create a trail. They spent weeks clearing away brush and leaves, pushing aside those twiggy trees until they’d created a path that snaked its way back into the field and out the side. To a child’s eye it was glorious. Magnificent. A space they’d created that was all their own.
In all honesty, to a grownup’s eye it was pretty cool, too.