Sunny Days After The Rainy Days

By Yasmyn Herrera

This week, listening became our point of departure.

The forest offered a sound that held our attention: water. From the Oak Tree, its presence was undeniable, yet unseen. The Finches paused, noticing the tension between what could be heard and what could not yet be seen.

“Where is the water?”
“We can hear it, but we can’t see it.”

Rather than offering answers, we followed the children’s curiosity. We walked slowly, listening carefully, allowing sound to guide our movement. The creek revealed itself beneath the bridge—not as a destination, but as a space for inquiry.

The Finches lingered. They observed, tested, compared, and shared theories:

“The water is strong.”
“It is frío (cold).”
“The creek is big. We cannot cross it.”

Each child negotiated their own relationship with the water. Some approached closely, feeling the temperature and current. Others chose distance, staying warm in the sun while observing from afar. Mornings by the creek felt cold, but later in the day, after time in the sun, the Finches found themselves missing the water they had stepped away from.

These moments invited deeper awareness of our bodies and needs. Throughout the day, the Finches practiced communication—checking in with one another and responding with care:

“Are you okay?”
“Is the water too cold?”
“Are you hot?”
“Do you want to move to the sunny spot?”
“May I splash you?”
“Is your tummy hungry?”

These exchanges revealed a growing capacity for empathy, consent, and collective responsibility. The children modeled attentiveness and care, setting a beautiful example—especially for the new Finches who joined our community this week.

Learning emerged not from instruction, but from relationship: with place, with body, and with one another.

The sun stayed with us all week, and so did our furry and feathered friends. While hiking, a subtle movement caught our attention. A plant shifted, and the group paused. Moving slowly and quietly, we discovered a bunny tucked into its home. We lingered at a respectful distance, watching as it peeked out, warmed by the sun and enjoying a snack.

Later, the sky came alive with birds in flight. The Finches watched, listened, and named what they recognized—scrub jays, woodpeckers, hummingbirds, California thrashers, and quail.

Teacher Madison also spotted a deer high in the mountains. We paused together, quietly using our “eagle eyes” to find it. We lingered in that shared moment of noticing, allowing wonder to lead.

Throughout the week, animals continued to appear in our play and imagination. The Finches explored questions about animal life: where animals live, what they eat, and how they move through their day. Songs filled the forest as children used playful animal voices and embodied large animal poses.

“I’m a giraffe. I can stand tall. Can you stand tall?”

Each Finch took a turn becoming an animal, sharing its movements and inviting others to join. Together, they built small homes—spaces to pretend, to feel safe, and to belong.

Thank you for a truly magical week.