wild children :: a transformation

paddling in the stream

At the end of last week, the eldest’s school was closed for the day and I found myself at home with all three boys. To begin with, the older boys were absorbed in their Lego. As the morning wore on, however, they got scratchier and grumpier, squabbling and whining. We had been blessed with perhaps the first warm, sunny day of the year, and so they needed little persuasion to pull on a pair of wellies and head out the door, armed with a bag of stale bread for the ducks.

We walked along the path that leads to the stream. With every step that we took, a transformation took place. Faces broke into smiles. The sound of laughter echoed across the lane. They began singing, and skipping, and – the moment we reached the stream- splashing. The warm touch of the sun, the breeze on their faces, the mud beneath their boots: stepping outside lifted their moods, and mine too. They paddled in the stream, they raced around the meadow, they played pooh-sticks on the bridge and ate hunks of chocolate cake on the bench. That night, lungs full of fresh air, they slept long and soundly.

From grumpy to gleeful –  transformed by wildness.

{Joining in with Project Wild Thing, and trying to swap screen time for #wildtime}

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