The creeks were a favorite spot — we stacked rocks to divert water into channels, then watched our crude “boats” made of sticks and leaves as they raced downstream. We made “Indian war paint” by rubbing colored rocks against flat, hard rocks and painting ourselves with wild markings. We made lean-to shelters out of branches and mosses and sometimes confiscated empty tree trunks to pretend they were tanks or look-out posts. I’m amazed we didn’t get more snake or spider bites!

But for the most part, we learned so much by being given the space (literally and figuratively) to grow up and explore the streams and fields, rocks and ridges, of our farm and neighboring farms.

Thanks for the trip down memory lane and for the perspective..think I’ll use it as a basis for my own blog post! The perspective on labor and childhood were very thought-provoking.