cherish

When we walk down granite covered hill sides we talk about the Earth.

When I look down at my boots, I notice a shard of pottery.

Clay, dust, water; shaped by skilled hands; fired and hardened.

But this was hundreds of years ago.

A place a fragment of history in the upturned palm of my student's hand.

This is how you can tell it is pottery and not just a rock, some bark from a tree.

She starts to see and pick out pieces from among dozens of rocks.

I smile.

This is how my father taught me to see the Earth: the things of Nature and then the things of Man.

There is a distinct difference. When trained, your eye will be able to find that thing that does and does not belong.

A kid from the other village came up to me today and said, "Hey! You're Kat! Your group said that you can see anything!" He puts a hand behind his back. "How many fingers am I holding up."

I looked him dead in the eye. "Three."

His jaw dropped and his eyes bugged. "Oh my gosh!"

Today I spotted six red tailed hawks, one barn owl who was fleeing an hawk, two ticks, three grasshoppers, one jack rabbit, and three vultures. One of my students said that I had amazing eyes. I grinned; I do have my father's eyes.

shelter

We saw our breath as it was torn from our mouths. All noses and cheeks were ruby ruddy red; all hair tousled when not bunched beneath beanies.

Up, up to the top of the hill, where the wind is the strongest, the coldest, the sharpest. If we follow the trail, we will continue to be blown about like leaves. If we drop down, forget the trail, we will find what I am looking for...

I teach my students that when you drop down the side of a mountain, you can find a shelter from the wind.

Ducking beneath mountain lilac; hopping over downed pines; tunneling between manzanita; there it is: an open, sloping meadow on the sunny-side of the hill.

I toss my bag and jacket aside and show my kids just how marvelous a nap in the sunshine can be. "Everybody relax. Warm up. Feel free to lay down and curl up like a deer in the grass."

They are exhausted from the wind and the cold. Their little bodies have used up so much energy shivering.

Nearly half of my group fell asleep in the sun.

I love having the honor of teaching children how to find shelter from the frigid weather, how to find a sunny mountain meadow, and how to fall asleep to the wind howling just above them in the tree tops.

warrior teacher

Beneath my watch is a layer of dirt and sweat.

From my shoes pour pebbles and grit.

I shake my silver brown hair and mica flies into the wind.

Tongue to my lips and I taste the dust of the earth, the sage I picked.

This will not last forever. At least, not yet.

This is a gift: being able to open the door to the outdoors for kids.

Impressionable young adults.

At the beginning they were squeamish about walking through mud.

This week I taught them to allow themselves to be dirty--hands on fun.

By the end of the week they were playing in streams, watching hawks, writing poetry.

"A Warrior of the Light shares his world with the people he loves. He tries to encourage them to do the things they would like to do but for which they lack the courage." - Paulo Coelho, Warrior of the Light

This is my calling in life: to share the beauty of nature with the youth so that we may all have a deeper appreciation and love for it. If it is not appreciated, who will stand before the bulldozers and concrete and log cutters and engineers and roads? Who will fight for the few pristine and beautiful places we have left in this world? Who will be able to look at a mountain and see themselves reflected in it? Who will be able to stand on that mountain and look upon their world with awe and inspiration?