At the school gates of Birchington Primary School, on the Kent coast, a group of mothers chat about their childhood.
'I used to go to the woods and build a den,' said one.
'I would always go to the park on my own, just so long as I was back before dark,' said a second.
The other mums nodded.
All remembered the adventures of their youth - long days spent out of sight of their parents. 'Happy days,' they said.
So do they let their own children enjoy the same freedoms?
'That would be irresponsible,' replied one. The rest agreed....
"Stuff is eaten by dogs, broken by family and friends, sanded down by the wind, frozen by the mountains, lost by the prairie, burnt off by the sun, washed away by the rain. So you are left with dogs, family, friends, sun, rain, wind, prairie and mountains. What more do you want?" Federico Calboli
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Mirror Image
Hat tip to Arthur Wilderson for this story, a write-up about a remarkably similar phenomenon in England to what we've been discussing over here lately: nostalgia for free-range children who spend their days outdoors. Good title, too: Rearing Children in Captivity
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