Nick Woodland 11/2/2023
I need forward motion.
The potential discoveries to be made around the next corner, the hidden gems behind that next hill, the diamonds in the rough. These things spur me on. They give me a sense of purpose. I feel alive in ways I don’t when settled. The alluring sense of impending discovery dissipates when stagnant and leaves me a little numb. No one found the needle in the haystack just sitting around. Or the perfect campsite. Or a sunset so blistering to the senses that you feel raw after it’s over, drained.
But there’s more to it than just gung-ho bravado. Forward men! Charge! No. I feel useful in continuing to look beyond the next hill, around the next corner, over the next river. There is a finality to knowing I can never see it all, but if I keep on moving perhaps I’ll see an awful lot of it. Like these loblolly pine trees that look straight out of The Lorax. They grow 50 feet or more straight up with nary a branch until sprouting a handful of them. They beelined for the sunshine. Or this campsite that was so beautiful and peaceful and serene that we all jumped on our bikes right away to explore. Or the deceiving calm of the Crooked River as it flows past, vast eddies and confusing currents waiting for the unwary.
So I keep moving, but I worry about coming to a stop.
Savannah, GA
Savannah is a city unlike many others. It is one of the most beguiling cities I’ve ever seen and I have seen a lot of cities. It is charming and languid in its southern ways. The live oaks stretch their limbs clear across the streets cradling them in their protective embrace. The Spanish moss hangs limp from them in numbers and lends a torpor to the air. Wrought iron is everywhere and things with fancy architectural terms festoon many of the mansions exteriors. It is a mysterious city with its cast of colorful characters and long history. There is an elusiveness, an ethereal quality: it is beautiful and serene, but also haunted, eerie and slightly scary. The perfectly ordered city, laid out in a big grid with evenly spaced squares, or plazas, is jarringly juxtaposed with its varied past, from colonial outpost, to revolutionary hotbed to civil war battlefield to voodoo and murder and more.
We walked its streets for a day and were immersed in a veritable smorgasbord of senses. A guy writing poetry on the side of the street with a typewriter wouldn’t write me a poem for less than $20. People did portraits for free, would have a deep conversation if you wanted, busked, sold their wares, or made things from sugar cane husks. Someone in full steampunk regalia walked a terrier down the pedestrian path in Forsyth Park. We entered the Book Lady bookstore and were lost in the aisles for a bit. A staircase climbed up into darkness with books stacked three feet high on either side. An older black man wearing a Vietnam vet hat had a box out for money so I gave him some and told him my father had been there. He asked after him, ‘is he doing ok?’. So many of those Vietnam vets suffered after coming home. I was struck by the compassion of the question and the man. Wendy even commented, ‘that was nice of him to ask’. Indeed, it was. We saw a shirt in a store that said, ‘I’m the nicest asshole you’ll ever meet’. We thought of a few friends we could send it to.
Out at Fort Pulaski we smelled weed in the visitor center and Teagan said, ‘it smells like marijuana’ and I thought, where did she learn that word? We walked the parapet of the fort and gazed out at the Savannah river and Tybee Island. On Tybee we saw a guy (he ‘arrrghed’ at Teagan like a pirate – maybe because of her flame print headband?) – with a profusely bleeding gash on his shin and followed his bloody footprints across the street and down the boardwalk to the beach. Wendy and I watched two college age sisters playing volleyball with each other. Their rallies were so long we sat transfixed by their prowess. Five latino boys in front of us were smoking and drinking Modelo’s in cans – both worthy of $300 fines, our girls were not afraid to point out. Then they set up a tent, climbed in and hot-boxed it. Yes, Teagan, more marijuana. Time to go, I guess. On the way out Wendy took a photo for a couple sitting on a swinging bench and when the guy saw the picture he was so happy with it that he asked Wendy her name. She leaves friends in her wake everywhere she goes.
When it was time to leave we saw Teagan sitting in a puddle in the sand in her pants, soaked. We called her over and were stern with her about how we had to go straight to our tour in the city and wondered if she had brought any other pants and, if not, why did she get her only pair wet. She got sad and cried a little telling us she didn’t like that everyone was mad at her. She only wanted to play in the sand. I mean we were at the beach, for crying out loud. It’s hard being eight sometimes. She got lucky and found a pair in the car under the seats.
While waiting for our Ghosts and Gravestones tour, Kay and T went one way and the others went another way and I was left waiting with my ticket in my hand while the trolley pulled up and all the choice seats were taken. Women!
Homeschool
We had a good day at ‘school’ today. We have delayed starts every day. It’s really nice. When they were ready to go we wished the kids well. Teagan and Ava rode their bikes and Sienna walked with her breakfast…she was running a little late. When they arrived, Mr. and Mrs. Woodland greeted them warmly and had a little circle time with a moment of silence. We then brainstormed some words around the idea of ‘Noticing’. Some examples put forth: awareness (the best of the bunch), sky, bugs, clouds, understand, see, hear, learn, etc. Then there was a short read aloud from the book, ‘The Hidden Life of Trees’ by Peter Wohlleben. Trees migrate. Did you know that? A short walk followed, with the intention of noticing things and then our pupils were instructed to write a few sentences about their experience.
P.E. was held at the Fitness Park over near the playground. Then on to Reading. We hunkered behind a storage shed to get out of the fresh wind off the river and read our books. Mr. Woodland read Goosebumps, ‘Ghost Beach’, with Teagan and did some back and forth work. Ava and Sienna read from their books and Mrs. Woodland had a moment to catch up on her own reading.
Time for lunch! Mac n’ Cheese with Tuna today. Sorry, no other choices.
Math after lunch with written exams for Sienna and Ava and multiplication work for Teagan. Mr. Woodland did his level best to help. Math not being his strong suit he began organizing the gear for the next Outdoor Program adventure to Cumberland Island over the weekend.
Back to the playground for free time! A little candy from Halloween may have been snuck to school today as Mr. and Mrs. Woodland found some wrappers on the floor at school.
The students are now looking for things outside to match a list of words they were given.
Perhaps later there will be some story telling around the fire. Or maybe some lantern making for Art class. Maybe some guitar playing for Music class.
Boy, if we can keep them off their phones we can do anything!