http://youtu.be/SWE6EOmXLZM
When I was growing up – admittedly in a rural area – we were sent out to play in a woodland or in the fields for hours on end, an apple the only provision. Supervision? What supervision? We were trusted to be home by mealtimes. I don't think anything very serious ever happened to any of us. We explored a "big cave" that had probably once been a fox den or was maybe simply a hollow left when a boulder tumbled down the steep slope after a heavy rainfall.
We were allowed to develop our natural instincts and learnt to trust them.
The worst that ever happened was a very young boy falling off the garden swing at his house. He broke his arm and was a hero in plaster for several weeks. I was about four at the time. When I was about nine, a friend swung me around, holding on to one of my arms and one of my feet. The landing was a bit rough and I scraped the top of my other foot. Sore for a few days, but the memory of that exhilarating flight in mid-air has remained with me ever since.
I have unforgettable memories of playing Indians, clambering up trees and ambushing our persecutors with tiny pebbles, of lugging big rocks into the middle of shallow streams, building dams to have a dip in a proper pool. Those were communal efforts that taught us the fine art of communicating to achieve a common goal. There was much shouting and laughter and we all got wonderfully brown tans in the process. Although suncream was unheard-of until much later, I don't recall ever having sunburn or heatstroke or anything of the kind.
Showing posts with label open air. Show all posts
Showing posts with label open air. Show all posts
Saturday, April 07, 2012
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