Our kids were definitely intrigued by the idea when we told them to sleep in sweat pants and a t-shirt as opposed to pjs.   We told them we’d be taking our first Mystery trip early the next morning and that they had to be ready. 

At 6:00 a.m., they started emerging from their rooms, eager to find out where we were going.  Without even the slightest bit of fussing or fighting,  they climbed into the car, rubbed their eyes,  and wondered as we drove a few miles to the shores of Lake Michigan to watch the sunrise.   It was Spring Break, and my husband and I figured it would be a fun family activity.  Unfortunately, when we arrived, the wind whipped off of the lake and it was unseasonably cold at 32 degrees.  The dark sky (which looked clear before we left) turned out to be a very, very cloudy one.  While we sat huddled next to a tree for warmth, a slightly pink line (if one were to use a little imagination) traced the bottom of the clouds.  Pretty soon we were racing back to the car and blasting the heat!  We drove off, thinking that the kids would be upset or disappointed.  Instead, they seemed to think that they had still experienced something special– something unusual, out-of-the ordinary and most of all, funny.  Though they still have no idea what a sunrise should look like, we have a shared memory that we will not forget anytime soon.  Then again, maybe it was the donuts afterword…

Saturday, February 6, 2010 @ 7 pm.

A concert to benefit the Crystal Lake Food Pantry will feature independent Christian musical artists of the Blacksmith Project. Admission is free, donations are welcomed.

Soon after we got started, we saw a hawk–with an impressive wing span.   Then, a black cat crossed an alley and the kids had fun trying to follow him with their eyes as he dashed under fences.  Not long after that we saw an ususal black squirrel  chasing a grey one.  Then there were the domestic dogs with funny quirks, sniffing and barking, which truly amused the kids. Before we knew it, we were at the school.  The walk home, too, went quickly and, although they were tired, I think we all  felt invigorated.  That one walk turned into two, and soon the animals received names.  Snow fell a few days later, and we found ourselves part of a winter wonderland.  They began to love cracking the ice and pretending they were caught in a blizzard. 

Through our morning walks, I realized something.  I’ve always felt bad that we don’t live in the country– that the kids don’t have wide fields to walk through.  I’ve spent many-a-night worrying that they are not out in nature enough–not exploring enough.  I had been praying for, wishing for, hoping for a change.  But this, in its own way, was an answer.  If I just stop and look around me; if I stop rushing, driving, hurrying all the time; if I leave more time for the kids to explore instead of constantly prodding them to quit running around and get ready; then maybe, just maybe, we might learn a few things.  Or maybe, we’ll just breathe a little easier…

At first, I thought it was one of the cutest things he’d ever done.  Just the idea of being able to literally jump into a book (and acting on it) was adorable.  But, the more I thought about it, I began to see it as a caution.  The reason he was so motivated at that moment was because of the endless trail of presents.  He just had to have it!  And, isn’t that the holiday trap? 

If I allow the magical feeling of the holiday season to be more about Santa than Jesus; more about receiving than giving; more about consumption than kindness, then I’ve done my children a disservice.   It’s a constant shift in focus.

As the boys pounded and grunted, whacking away, our 3-year old daughter carefully picked up thin sticks and laid them on the path. “An X!” she’d say, and then wandered off.

A couple walked by with their Golden Retriever, and the kids were attracted like magnets. “Can I pet your dog?” they repeated, one after the other, while simultaneously reaching their hands out. Before long, our youngest boy tried to ride the dog as if it were a horse, and the others kept trying to feed the dog sticks. The couple moved on quickly. “I like your puppy!” our daughter called out as they trailed off.

The silence and serenity that filled this part of the Forest Preserve was clearly gone now. Quiet chirping was replaced by loud expressions such as, “Escape!” “Never!” “Help me–help me tear this branch down!” and occasional “Ahhhhhhs!!” while jumping off of logs.
But, the energy, enthusiasm and imagination of children filled the space. And, for a time, there were pirates, marauders and jedis travelling through the woods on that sunny, Sunday afternoon.
When it was time to go, my husband and I looked at each other, wondering why we didn’t do this more often; wondering why we were more inclined to sign them up for nature classes instead.