A Day in the Life: Beach Day

In case you forgot or are just tuning in, I work for Seattle Parks and Recreation, helping lead a nature day camp at an enormous local park. Today was beach day. I wrote the curriculum for beach day, so I obviously already adore it.

I had my kids (I call my campers each week "my kids") wearing velcro belts, pretending to be whales, and running around and finding the correct color of barnacles to stick onto themselves. They learned about symbiosis.

They went through a series of photos to decided if some of our intertidal friends were plants or animals. I'm tired of adults coming into the aquarium and thinking that sea anemones are plants.

We donned the roles of various marine animals, made food web, watched it fall apart due to an "oil spill," "cleaned up the beach" and rebuilt our web--we are all connected.

We played the parts of sea stars in the intertidal  zone and figured out that life on the edge is a difficult one.

We did a silent handshake hike which allowed each camper to hike silently and alone through the forest on the way to the beach. They saw vistas and thickets. They said they felt at peace.

We built a fort out of driftwood, teamwork.

We explored the tidepools and found crabs of all shells and sizes, sea stars, isopods, and anemones.

We watched a Great Blue Heron hunt.

We rolled up our jeans and waded out into the Sound. We splashed and played and looked for jellyfish. We bonded as a team.

As I sat on a log toward the end of the day and watched my kids tread softly through the tidepools, turning over rocks and looking for crabs, I nearly wept. Despite some of the troubles this job has given me, my job is just about as rewarding as they come. I am so grateful that I get to go outside each day and teach kids in my community about nature. I get to teach them plant identification and animal adaptations, but most importantly I get them to make connections. They are out there building relationships with their local plant and animal communities and tightening the tether that binds them to their fragile curiousity and wonderment.

I know that my job matters. It counts regardless of whether or not other people find it worthwhile. It counts to me, and I know it counts to the Lord. I know that among my greatest calllings while here on Earth is the call to bring His people to the earth and help them connect with Mother Nature. It feels wonderful to know I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing. Now that you've read this, please, go outside!