Pharoahs and Cliff Dwellings
I hung out at my brother Lowell's family's house today where a crew of church people were working together to frame an addition to their house. Using this term seems like a misnomer since the addition dwarfs the original house.
Several boys near Joey's age accompanied their dad to the work day, occupying themselves with whatever 10-year-olds and younger boys find to do on days like this. I don't know who all gets the credit for this, but about halfway up one side of one of the huge dirt piles from the basement excavation, a village of miniature cliff dwellings emerged. They were charming little structures built into the face of the "mountain," laid up with little adobe bricks, and roofed with tiny slabs of wood covered with more dirt. Doors and windows created openings into the dark interior.
In their digging, they discovered a mud turtle, which they transported to a safer location. They returned from that relocation foray with mud up to their shoulders--a result of having tried to reach a crayfish whose "chimney" they spied.
Hannah told me later about "Pharoah," a figure cut out of a piece of scrap wood. Someone painted a face for Pharoah, and Joey buried him in a pyramid--in a secret chamber. Pharoah was discovered by archeologists many times and re-buried each time in a new pyramid. But poor Pharoah is lost now, apparently permanently interred under the fill dirt that raised the grade around the new structure.
Several days ago, our local newspaper carried news about a new kind of play area being built at the Dillon Nature Center. In this area, children will be able to play in dirt, sand, and water. Picture that. It's being carefully designed by someone hired from another state. I don't begrudge children being able to play in that place, but I'm glad that not every child has to go to such a park to play imaginatively.
When adults work at something worthwhile and allow children to work or play alongside them, many wonderful opportunities develop naturally, especially in an outdoor setting. I can't imagine a more charmed and blessed childhood than this kind of childhood.
Several boys near Joey's age accompanied their dad to the work day, occupying themselves with whatever 10-year-olds and younger boys find to do on days like this. I don't know who all gets the credit for this, but about halfway up one side of one of the huge dirt piles from the basement excavation, a village of miniature cliff dwellings emerged. They were charming little structures built into the face of the "mountain," laid up with little adobe bricks, and roofed with tiny slabs of wood covered with more dirt. Doors and windows created openings into the dark interior.
In their digging, they discovered a mud turtle, which they transported to a safer location. They returned from that relocation foray with mud up to their shoulders--a result of having tried to reach a crayfish whose "chimney" they spied.
Hannah told me later about "Pharoah," a figure cut out of a piece of scrap wood. Someone painted a face for Pharoah, and Joey buried him in a pyramid--in a secret chamber. Pharoah was discovered by archeologists many times and re-buried each time in a new pyramid. But poor Pharoah is lost now, apparently permanently interred under the fill dirt that raised the grade around the new structure.
Several days ago, our local newspaper carried news about a new kind of play area being built at the Dillon Nature Center. In this area, children will be able to play in dirt, sand, and water. Picture that. It's being carefully designed by someone hired from another state. I don't begrudge children being able to play in that place, but I'm glad that not every child has to go to such a park to play imaginatively.
When adults work at something worthwhile and allow children to work or play alongside them, many wonderful opportunities develop naturally, especially in an outdoor setting. I can't imagine a more charmed and blessed childhood than this kind of childhood.
posted by Mrs. I at
6:52 PM
3 Comments:
Re: your first paragraph - We had friends that added a "house to their piece".
By
Anonymous, at 4/11/2010
I wish I could have seen "the village."Aren't children the best at designing their own play with something as cheap as dirt? I remember the fun of imagining with a little bit of nothing.
By
betty, at 4/13/2010
Today when we were back at the house I discovered another whole village on the other side of the "mountain". This time they were cave dwellings as opposed to cliff dwellings. Unfortunately the cliff village is no more, it fell victim to great-uncle Ollie's back-fill operation.
By
Hannah, at 4/15/2010
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