This wonderful week the weather was our greatest teacher and the children, our greatest inspiration.
What better way to understand a world of changing weather than to get your hands right into it? We launched the week with water play and not the splashing-around kind (though there was plenty of that too!). This was purposeful, investigative, deeply satisfying play. Children tested what happened when water met soil, poured water through pipes, blocked those pipes, and worked out exactly how much force was needed to push dry leaves through. They were assessing cause and effect in a way that felt almost instinctive: profound, really, for such small scientists.
Tuesday brought us an exciting (and a bit scary) thunderstorm. We safely evacuated our camp and went to explore the secret rooms of Fulham Palace. We found ourselves transported back in time, exploring which foods were served when the Bishop lived in the Palace, and pretended to write our names using feather quill pens. Holding hands, moving quietly through the museum, mindful of where we were and what had come before us. It was history through feeling, and it was wonderful.
After the storm came a day of pure, buzzing energy: music, dancing, mud volcanoes, dinosaurs, animal footprints, and storytelling about the birds in our camp, all woven into an unstoppable day. We also kept one hopeful eye on the horizon, watching for a rainbow that the sky kept promising but never quite delivered, which just means we have something magical still to look forward to.
Through all the weather, all the adventure and all the big feelings, some things stayed beautifully constant. Our mud kitchen was reimagined all week long: repurposed as a drum station, used for careful measurement and bubbling with creativity. Our reading corner stood like a wise old friend, always welcoming, always there. This week's book “After the Storm” felt almost written for us, perfectly reflecting everything we were living through.
What a week it has been, full of sudden changes, quiet courage, and the kind of joy that catches you off guard. The children showed us, again and again, that resilience isn't something you sit still and learn. It grows from mud and music, from thunderstorms and sharing shells, from feather pens and bare feet on grass.
We truly cannot wait to see what next week brings.
Little Forest Folk
Fulham