Outdoors Nature Play Quotes

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It might seem to you that living in the woods on a riverbank would remove you from the modern world. But not if the river is navigable, as ours is. On pretty weekends in the summer, this riverbank is the very verge of the modern world. It is a seat in the front row, you might say. On those weekends, the river is disquieted from morning to night by people resting from their work. This resting involves traveling at great speed, first on the road and then on the river. The people are in an emergency to relax. They long for the peace and quiet of the great outdoors. Their eyes are hungry for the scenes of nature. They go very fast in their boats. They stir the river like a spoon in a cup of coffee. They play their radios loud enough to hear above the noise of their motors. They look neither left nor right. They don't slow down for - or maybe even see - an old man in a rowboat raising his lines... I watch and I wonder and I think. I think of the old slavery, and of the way The Economy has now improved upon it. The new slavery has improved upon the old by giving the new slaves the illusion that they are free. The Economy does not take people's freedom by force, which would be against its principles, for it is very humane. It buys their freedom, pays for it, and then persuades its money back again with shoddy goods and the promise of freedom.
Wendell Berry (Jayber Crow)
As a child, one has that magical capacity to move among the many eras of the earth; to see the land as an animal does; to experience the sky from the perspective of a flower or a bee; to feel the earth quiver and breathe beneath us; to know a hundred different smells of mud and listen unselfconciously to the soughing of the trees.
Valerie Andrews (A Passion for This Earth: Exploring a New Partnership of Man, Woman, and Nature)
One study found that the average American boy or girl spends four to seven minutes a day outdoors. Another placed the estimate at about thirty minutes of daily, unstructured, outdoor play.
Scott D. Sampson (How to Raise a Wild Child: The Art and Science of Falling in Love with Nature)
And we were taught to play golf. Golf epitomizes the tame world. On a golf course nature is neutered. The grass is clean, a lawn laundry that wipes away the mud, the insect, the bramble, nettle and thistle, an Eezy-wipe lawn where nothing of life, dirty and glorious, remains. Golf turns outdoors into indoors, a prefab mat of stultified grass, processed, pesticided, herbicided, the pseudo-green of formica sterility. Here, the grass is not singing. The wind cannot blow through it. Dumb expression, greenery made stupid, it hums a bland monotone in the key of the mono-minded. No word is emptier than a golf tee. No roots, it has no known etymology, it is verbal nail polish. Worldwide, golf is an arch act of enclosure, a commons fenced and subdued for the wealthy, trampling serf and seedling. The enemy of wildness, it is a demonstration of the absolute dominion of man over wild nature.
Jay Griffiths (Wild: An Elemental Journey)
The U.S. has so many rules and regulations, because of fear of being sued, that kids give up on the opportunity for personal exploration. A pool has to be fenced so that it’s not an ‘attractive nuisance.’ Most New Guineans don’t have pools, but even the rivers that we frequented didn’t have signs saying ‘Jump at your own risk,’ because it’s obvious. Why would I jump unless I’m prepared for the consequences? Responsibility in the U.S. has been taken from the person acting and has been placed on the owner of the land or the builder of the house. Most Americans want to blame someone other than themselves as much as possible. In New Guinea I was able to grow up, play creatively, and explore the outdoors and nature freely, with the obligatory element of risk, however well managed, that is absent from the average risk-averse American childhood. I had the richest upbringing possible, an upbringing inconceivable for Americans.
Jared Diamond (The World Until Yesterday: What Can We Learn from Traditional Societies?)
Countless communities have virtually outlawed unstructured outdoor nature play, often because of the threat of lawsuits, but also because of a growing obsession with order. Many parents now believe outdoor play is verboten even when it is not; perception is nine-tenths of the law.
Richard Louv (Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder)
Of all the world’s creatures, perhaps those in the greatest need of rewilding are our children. The collapse of children’s engagement with nature has been even faster than the collapse of the natural world. In the turning of one generation, the outdoor life in which many of us were immersed has gone. Since the 1970s the area in which children may roam without supervision in the UK has decreased by almost 90 per cent, while the proportion of children regularly playing in wild places has fallen from over half to fewer than one in ten.
George Monbiot (Feral: Searching for Enchantment on the Frontiers of Rewilding)
In nature, children learn to take risks, overcome fears, make new friends, regulate emotions, and create imaginary worlds.
Angela J. Hanscom (Balanced and Barefoot: How Unrestricted Outdoor Play Makes for Strong, Confident, and Capable Children)
Compared to kids confined indoors, children who regularly play in nature show heightened motor control—including balance, coordination, and agility. They tend to engage more in imaginative and creative play, which in turn fosters language, abstract reasoning, and problem-solving skills, together with a sense of wonder. Nature play is superior at engendering a sense of self and a sense of place, allowing children to recognize both their independence and interdependence. Play in outdoor settings also exceeds indoor alternatives in fostering cognitive, emotional, and moral development. And individuals who spend abundant time playing outdoors as children are more likely to grow up with a strong attachment to place and an environmental ethic.
Scott D. Sampson (How to Raise a Wild Child: The Art and Science of Falling in Love with Nature)
But I don't have any real interest in anything, you know. I don't really care about anything. Not about the sea or the outdoors or nature or anything. I don't really have any hobbies. My mother and grandmother used to sew things.' She picked up one of the embroidered cushions. 'But it doesn't interest me. I do things for a bit and then get bored. Like painting or writing. It interested me for a while but I gave up. I think about swimming but I don't swim,' she said. 'I imagine what it would be like to be in the water, especially the sea. I imagine what it would be like to dip my body into the freezing salt water and how it would feel to be fully submerged and then come up for air but I never do it. I don't go to the beach and I don't get into the water. Sometimes I think I could have been an actor. It's the one profession I've never tried. In one way or another, I have spent my whole life impersonating other people. Acting out fantasies with personalities that I've made up in my head. Brave people that go about the world and do things. But it's not like it's the achievements that matter to me, it's the interest. The interest the people I play take in the world around them. I suppose they love it in a way that I don't. They're fanatics.
Fiona Mozley (Elmet)
Every child begins the world again, to some extent, and loves to stay outdoors, even in wet and cold. It plays house, as well as horse, having an instinct for it. Who does not remember the interest with which, when young, he looked at shelving rocks, or any approach to a cave? It was the natural yearning of that portion, any portion of our most primitive ancestor which still survived in us. From the cave we have advanced to roofs of palm leaves, of bark and boughs, of linen woven and stretched, of grass and straw, of boards and shingles, of stones and tiles. At last, we know not what it is to live in the open air, and our lives are domestic in more senses than we think.
Henry David Thoreau (Walden)
The biggest adjustment I had to make on moving from New Guinea to the U.S. was my lack of freedom. Children have much more freedom in New Guinea. In the U.S. I was not allowed to climb trees. I was always climbing trees in New Guinea; I still like to climb trees. When my brother and I came back to California and moved into our house there, one of the first things we did was to climb a tree and build a tree house; other families thought that was weird. The U.S. has so many rules and regulations, because of fear of being sued, that kids give up on the opportunity for personal exploration. A pool has to be fenced so that it’s not an ‘attractive nuisance.’ Most New Guineans don’t have pools, but even the rivers that we frequented didn’t have signs saying ‘Jump at your own risk,’ because it’s obvious. Why would I jump unless I’m prepared for the consequences? Responsibility in the U.S. has been taken from the person acting and has been placed on the owner of the land or the builder of the house. Most Americans want to blame someone other than themselves as much as possible. In New Guinea I was able to grow up, play creatively, and explore the outdoors and nature freely, with the obligatory element of risk, however well managed, that is absent from the average risk-averse American childhood. I had the richest upbringing possible, an upbringing inconceivable for Americans.” “A frustration
Jared Diamond (The World Until Yesterday: What Can We Learn from Traditional Societies?)
recent research indicates that unstructured play in natural settings is essential for children’s healthy growth. As any parent or early childhood educator will attest, play is an innate drive. It is also the primary vehicle for youngsters to experience and explore their surroundings. Compared to kids confined indoors, children who regularly play in nature show heightened motor control—including balance, coordination, and agility. They tend to engage more in imaginative and creative play, which in turn fosters language, abstract reasoning, and problem-solving skills, together with a sense of wonder. Nature play is superior at engendering a sense of self and a sense of place, allowing children to recognize both their independence and interdependence. Play in outdoor settings also exceeds indoor alternatives in fostering cognitive, emotional, and moral development. And individuals who spend abundant time playing outdoors as children are more likely to grow up with a strong attachment to place and an environmental ethic. When asked to identify the most significant environment of their childhoods, 96.5 percent of a large sample of adults named an outdoor environment. In
Scott D. Sampson (How to Raise a Wild Child: The Art and Science of Falling in Love with Nature)
I could use a nice bath down at the river tonight. Guess I'll just have to settle for a spit bath." She smiled good-naturedly and picked up the bucket. "Come on up to the house when you're finished and I'll show you to a room." As she turned to leave, Rider nonchalantly stretched out his arm and grabbed her belt, pulling her up short. "I could walk you to the swimming hole and stand guard if you like." His grin was devilish. Willow smiled and pried loose the long fingers on her waist. "I thank you for the offer, but I like my privacy." "Are you suggesting that I would be like the fox guarding the henhouse?" he teased, wiggling his brows up and down. "Don't forget, we are supposed to be lovers." "We're only playacting that we're lovers." She laughed and headed torward the door. His chair tipped over as Rider beat her there and stretched an arm across the doorway to block her passage. "All good plays are well-rehearsed,Willow." His deep baritone was tantalizing in its implication. Her cheeks pinked and she uttered a nervous little laugh. "Let me through, you big galoot." Instead,he leaned closer. He smelled of leather,outdoors, and a familiar male scent she now realized was his alone. The heady combination aroused her desire to be closer, to be touched. Warning bells went off. Willow tried stepping back, but his other arm came up behind her and cut off her retreat. Her hammering heart skipped a beat as his desire-laden eyes touched where his hands dared not. "Let's rehearse, sweetheart." "Rehearse," she repeated in a dreamy whisper. She dropped the bucket, all thoughts of escape gone. Her body leaned into his of its own volition. What do I know of lovers? she asked herself. Practice, yes. I need practice. Hicks must be convinced. She tilted her head back for Rider's kiss. Rehearsal, that's all it is. Her lips met his.
Charlotte McPherren (Song of the Willow)
When a middle school teacher in San Antonio, Texas, named Rick Riordan began thinking about the troublesome kids in his class, he was struck by a topsy-turvy idea. Maybe the wild ones weren’t hyperactive; maybe they were misplaced heroes. After all, in another era the same behavior that is now throttled with Ritalin and disciplinary rap sheets would have been the mark of greatness, the early blooming of a true champion. Riordan played with the idea, imagining the what-ifs. What if strong, assertive children were redirected rather than discouraged? What if there were a place for them, an outdoor training camp that felt like a playground, where they could cut loose with all those natural instincts to run, wrestle, climb, swim, and explore? You’d call it Camp Half-Blood, Riordan decided, because that’s what we really are—half animal and half higher-being, halfway between each and unsure how to keep them in balance. Riordan began writing, creating a troubled kid from a broken home named Percy Jackson who arrives at a camp in the woods and is transformed when the Olympian he has inside is revealed, honed, and guided. Riordan’s fantasy of a hero school actually does exist—in bits and pieces, scattered across the globe. The skills have been fragmented, but with a little hunting, you can find them all. In a public park in Brooklyn, a former ballerina darts into the bushes and returns with a shopping bag full of the same superfoods the ancient Greeks once relied on. In Brazil, a onetime beach huckster is reviving the lost art of natural movement. And in a lonely Arizona dust bowl called Oracle, a quiet genius disappeared into the desert after teaching a few great athletes—and, oddly, Johnny Cash and the Red Hot Chili Peppers—the ancient secret of using body fat as fuel. But the best learning lab of all was a cave on a mountain behind enemy lines—where, during World War II, a band of Greek shepherds and young British amateurs plotted to take on 100,000 German soldiers. They weren’t naturally strong, or professionally trained, or known for their courage. They were wanted men, marked for immediate execution. But on a starvation diet, they thrived. Hunted and hounded, they got stronger. They became such natural born heroes, they decided to follow the lead of the greatest hero of all, Odysseus, and
Christopher McDougall (Natural Born Heroes: Mastering the Lost Secrets of Strength and Endurance)
It had been years since Melora listened to a symphony. She had been struck by how natural and organic the music was. She found herself thinking about how the instruments were all human powered—not one electrical impulse among them. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get transported by the music—to find oneself thinking about vast outdoor landscapes when the music played.
Marie Zhuikov (Plover Landing)
Maybe the wild ones weren't hyperactive; maybe they were misplaced heroes. After all, in another era, the same behavior that is now throttled with Ritalin and disciplinary rap sheets would have been the mark of greatness, the early blooming of a true champion. Riordan played with the idea, imagining the what-ifs. What if strong, assertive children were redirected rather than discouraged? What if there were a place for them, an outdoor training camp that felt like a playground, where they could cut loose with all those natural instincts to run, wrestle, climb, swim, and explore?
Christopher McDougall (Natural Born Heroes: How a Daring Band of Misfits Mastered the Lost Secrets of Strength and Endurance)
nature has power to shape the psyche, and that it can play a significant role in helping traumatized children. He found that playing outdoors, whether along a river or in an alleyway, “is how a kid works through issues.” “We have a small hill, a mound—and for one kid at a certain point in therapy it was a grave; for another, it was the belly of a pregnant woman,” he said. “The point is obvious: children interpret and give meaning to a piece of landscape, and the same piece can be interpreted differently. Usually, if you [use] traditional puppets and games, there are limits. A policeman puppet is usually a policeman; a kid rarely makes it something else. But with landscape, it’s much more engaging, and you’re giving the child ways of expressing what’s within.” The Re-naturing of
Richard Louv (Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder)
So what happened? Well, the digital revolution for one thing. Perhaps even more so than adults, children are highly susceptible to the hypnotic siren call of computers and handheld gadgets. Yet blaming technology is far too simplistic; many other factors have been involved. The fear factor, for example. Thanks to the media frenzy that now surrounds child abductions, parents are afraid to let their children play outdoors unattended. This is in spite of the fact that friends and relatives, rather than strangers, commit the great bulk of these crimes, and that the odds of your child being snatched are no greater than they were in 1950 or 1960. Another fear—this one of litigation—has driven many property owners
Scott D. Sampson (How to Raise a Wild Child: The Art and Science of Falling in Love with Nature)
Children develop strength when they have daily opportunities to activate and use big muscle groups in a variety of ways. For instance, when babies have plenty of time to be on the ground day after day, they build strength simply by interacting with the environment around them. They reach for objects, attempt to kick things, push up for a better view, and roll over for a new perspective. They don’t need to do formal baby exercises that so many parenting forums recommend; simply moving about in a sensory-rich, yet soothing, environment is more than adequate for developing muscles naturally.
Angela J. Hanscom (Balanced and Barefoot: How Unrestricted Outdoor Play Makes for Strong, Confident, and Capable Children)
Countless communities have virtually outlawed unstructured outdoor nature play, often because of the threat of lawsuits, but also because of a growing obsession with order.
Richard Louv (Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature-Deficit Disorder)
Playgrounds started to spread across the United States in the early twentieth century with the purposes of getting children off the streets and providing a safe place to play within walking distance of their homes. Playgrounds were especially important for children who lived in the city and didn’t have access to natural areas of play. Recognizing the need for public playgrounds to keep children out of danger and away from crime, former President Theodore Roosevelt stated in a speech in 1907, “City streets are unsatisfactory playgrounds for children” (Theodore Roosevelt Association n. d.).
Angela J. Hanscom (Balanced and Barefoot: How Unrestricted Outdoor Play Makes for Strong, Confident, and Capable Children)
When it became too wet and cold for out-door expeditions we went to a picture-house together, and sometimes on a Saturday evening we went to the theatre and saw a play. I realised that all these expeditions were planned for my benefit but there was no doubt Uncle Matt enjoyed them as much as I did. He had a natural capacity for enjoyment, he was full of energy and there was a boyishness about him which made him an excellent companion.
D.E. Stevenson (Five Windows)
The important connections back to Gaia and quiet itself, has been replaced in society by the distracting screams from all of the electronic devices that we identify ourselves with. Even in my short lifetime, I have seen a complete disappearance of the importance of growing up and playing in the outdoors. Society has replaced the external world with the illusion of its technological accomplishments. Technology can be a powerful tool for expansion, but far more commonly it becomes the substitute for vital exercise and fresh air, turning us into a society of confused, caged animals. We have forgotten our important connection to the natural world and the need for peace and quiet that it provides us. Slowly eroded from within us through years of conditioning and conformity, most people today just avoid nature and the quiet completely.
Matthew LaCroix (The Illusion of Us: The Suppression and Evolution of Human Consciousness)
The students at Sudbury Valley are “doin’ what comes natur’ly.” But they are not necessarily choosing what comes easily. A close look discovers that everyone is challenging themselves; that every kid is acutely aware of their own weaknesses and strengths, and extremely likely to be working hardest on their weaknesses. If their weaknesses are social, they are very unlikely to be stuck away in a quiet room with a book. And if athletics are hard, they are likely to be outdoors playing basketball. Along with the ebullient good spirits, there is an underlying seriousness—even the 6 year olds know that they, and only they, are responsible for their education. They have been given the gift of tremendous trust, and they understand that this gift is as big a responsibility as it is a delight. They are acutely aware that very young people are not given this much freedom or this much responsibility almost anywhere in the world. But growing up shouldering this responsibility makes for a very early confidence in your own abilities—you get, as one graduate says, a “track record.” Self-motivation is never even a question. That’s all there is.
Russell L. Ackoff (Turning Learning Right Side Up: Putting Education Back on Track)
Montessori School located in Little Falls, NJ, providing Montessori-based practices to education for ages 6 weeks old to 9 years old. Spacious, bright and warm classrooms are filled with natural light and provide an environment that is safe, clean and homey. Carpeting, natural bamboo flooring, and surroundings that echo the home are designed to encourage children to create, explore, feel at ease and ready to learn. Outdoors, children can continue their “work” of play in our play area, set on 1.3 acres of open space. Several times daily, they have the opportunity to engage in physical activity and use their imaginations. In Spring, they plant their own outdoor garden, incorporating the “fruits of their labor” into classroom meals and snacks.
Monarch Montessori School