It was in a little wood in early morning. The sun was climbing behind a steep cliff in the east, and its light was flooding nearer and nearer and then making pools among the trees. Suddenly, from a dark corner of purple brown stems and tawny moss there shone out a great golden star. It was just a dandelion, and half withered – but it was full face to the sun, and had caught into its heart all the glory it could hold, and was shining so radiantly that the dew that lay on it still made a perfect aureole
In this post, I want to share with you what Charlotte Mason thought about the benefits of the “blessed air” of the great outdoors. But first, a poem from me. Hope you like it! When We Were Kids When we were kids, my siblings and I (now old) witnessed — gardens growing from seeds, flowers blooming and wilting, branches bending as one balances on them, and breaking, ants on your skin when their homes atop fruit trees are disturbed, destroyed, and the waters cackling as they go their merry way tiptoeing upon pebbles, rocks and boulders on their journey to the sea.
One morning, my daughter, who was learning how to ride a bike, came up to me. She gently tugged at the hem of my shirt to shift my gaze from the sayote I was peeling to her concerned face.