Dream Catchers with Indigenous Elder Two-Bears

Children Are My Teachers: A Day of Discovery, Creativity, and Connection Outdoors (Lanark Highlands Nature Connection Program with Laurie Clark)

Our morning began with a hike through the cedar grove, where the older children naturally looked out for the younger ones as we wandered the forest together. Along the trail, we identified wild mint, wild strawberries, trilliums, Jack-in-the-pulpit, vetch, and columbine while exploring the rich diversity of the woodland ecosystem.

One of the day's most memorable moments came when the older children carefully helped the younger ones identify poison ivy, proudly teaching them the familiar woodland rhyme:

"Leaves of three, let them be!"

Watching children teach children was a beautiful reminder that learning often flourishes through shared experience and mentorship.

Later in the morning, Elder Two Bears led a Dream Catcher teaching and workshop. As everyone worked to master the challenge of tying slip knots, the activity became more than a craft—it became an opportunity to practise patience, perseverance, and mindful concentration. The process reminded us that meaningful learning often requires slowing down and embracing the challenge.

Some of the younger children, along with others who were ready for a different pace, ventured to the outdoor classroom where they gathered cattail leaves, cedar, and horsetail to weave into grapevine crowns and feather wands. The natural materials inspired creativity, imagination, and a deep appreciation for the gifts of the forest.

And then, because childhood rarely follows a schedule, sixteen free-spirited children burst into laughter as they voluntarily ran through the gentle rain—convinced it was the perfect way to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

Afterward, we settled into a peaceful storytelling circle, enjoying a moment of rest while listening to an Inuit legend about a clever fox who playfully outwitted an eagle. The story offered another opportunity to connect with Indigenous storytelling traditions and the wisdom found in oral narratives.

The afternoon unfolded in an entirely unexpected direction when one child enthusiastically offered to teach everyone his own choreographed dance routine. Without hesitation, the group formed a sharing circle, and soon children were inspiring one another through movement, creativity, and joyful expression. Some demonstrated the waltz—complete with a graceful dip—while others created spontaneous group dances before everyone explored movement with hoops.

These child-led moments are often the most meaningful. When children are given the freedom to share their ideas, talents, and interests, they naturally enrich the learning experience for everyone around them.

To meet every child's need for active physical play, a group of energetic boys eagerly asked if they could wrestle together. After reviewing clear expectations around safety, respect, and stopping immediately if someone felt uncomfortable, they engaged in friendly rough-and-tumble play while carefully looking out for one another. It was a wonderful reminder that, with thoughtful guidance and clear boundaries, children can learn cooperation, self-regulation, empathy, and trust through physical play.

Much to my relief—and their credit—everyone walked away smiling, with no injuries and plenty of laughter.

We closed our day gathered once again in an Appreciation Sharing Circle. Twenty-one tired, muddy, and content children passed the talking piece, reflecting on the day's adventures and expressing gratitude for one another, for the land, and for the many experiences nature had generously offered.

Days like these remind me that outdoor education is about far more than identifying plants or completing activities. It is about relationships, curiosity, creativity, resilience, and joy. Every day spent learning outdoors reinforces one simple truth:

Children are my teachers.