Adventures in Nature E-Book

Dawn Nelson

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Für Kinder und Jugendliche
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 259

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

Through a mixture of original stories and traditional tales, Adventures in Nature offers an abundance of ways for families to connect with the earth. As our ancestors did before us, the book follows the seasons contained in the 'Wheel Of The Year', with each entry focusing on a story that brings us closer to the natural world, accompanied by simple craft projects, activities and mindful moments. In our busy, modern lives we have become increasingly disconnected from the world around us, and stories are an age-old way of re-establishing that link, nurturing a love for the environment and embedding awareness and respect for the planet within our culture. This book allows you to discover your very own adventures in nature through story.

Leseprobe

First published 2021

The History Press

97 St George’s Place, Cheltenham,

Gloucestershire, GL50 3QB

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

© Dawn Nelson, 2021

The right of Dawn Nelson to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the Publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978 0 7509 9774 4

Typesetting and origination by Typo•glyphix

Printed in Great Britain by T.J. International Ltd

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

September

October

November

December

Resources

Bibliography and Further Reading

Appendices

Acknowledgements

This book would not have been possible without many people. Audiences who have listened to my stories, the patrons who support my work via Patreon, my daughter who has, by insisting I tell certain stories over and over, shown me which ones sing to people’s hearts and, of course, my husband, who has supported me in so many ways throughout the writing of this book.

These stories came about when I challenged myself to write 100 mini fables in 100 days. What appeared on the pages were tiny glimpses of childhood stories that have stayed with me and have woven themselves into my own tales; narratives inspired by sunshine-filled days in the country, learning about nature, and time spent listening to my mother read at bedtime, and so for that I am forever grateful to my mother for her love of nature and literature and for passing that on to me.

My thanks also to Nicola Guy at The History Press for seeing the potential in this book and to the rest of the team for working so hard to bring it into being.

Introduction

Merry met, reader of tales and adventurer of life. My name is Dawn Nelson, and I am an author and professional storyteller. As a teller I am known as DD Storyteller and I love to tell both traditional tales and my own original stories, which often combine folklore, nature and the old ways.

In this book, you will find a collection of original, seasonal stories that hold within them elements of nature and echoes of our ancestors’ stories. The book is divided into the twelve months of the year and there are four stories for each month.

The stories use nature to teach us something about ourselves and how we connect with the world around us. Each story also has an activity to accompany it. After you have read one of the stories for the month that we are currently in, you can then turn to that month’s activities section and there you will find an adventure, craft project or recipe that will help you to bring the story to life with the younger members of your family. You are also encouraged to keep an Adventure Journal, with notes of your finds and discoveries while carrying out these activities.

At the back of the book is a list of resources for each month’s activities. These are websites and books that you can use to find more information to help you with the activity, should you wish.

Within the book there is also a chance to pause for the wheel of the year as it turns and learn about the ancient festivals of Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha, Lammas, Mabon, Samhain and Yule.

This collection contains forty-eight stories for families. They encompass my love for fable, folklore and fairy tale and, as you read, you may discover echoes of past stories told to you and themes running through them that are present in many of the long-told tales of our ancestors. Like a magpie takes shiny items for their nest, so a storyteller weaves old stories into new.

Stories are in our blood, stitched into the fabric of our being, the very essence of what it is to be human. They help us to learn, to explain the world around us and to perpetuate our cultures and beliefs. Holding many of them dear, we hand stories down through the generations as keys to our own hopes and fears, and I hope that these stories will, in turn, be passed on to the next generation so that they will also tell them.

Bare trees in the winter dark

Badgers slumber, foxes bark

Catkins dance from branches high

Listen, the sleeping earth it sighs.

The Old Oak Tree

Journey through the valleys and across the hills, and you will reach a forest full of oak trees. They have been standing there for as long as the Earth has been turning. Each year new trees are born, and old ones fall back to the earth. It’s the cycle of the forest, but to truly see the magic, you must look a little closer.

The huge oak tree that once stood at the centre of the forest is now just a stump. It started its life as an acorn, burying itself deep into the leaf mulch to find a warm bed. As the weather grew cold, the acorn dug further down and was covered by more leaves and twigs. Feathers and fur from the passing animals fell too, to warm the acorn. The acorn stayed very still and waited.

Spring came and the birds shouted from the trees: ‘The sun is here once more!’

The acorn heard their call and stretched. As it did, its shell cracked, and a small, green shoot emerged. Each day, the sun shone a little more and the shoot pushed through the soil. Poking through the leaves it saw the forest around it, towering above.

Rain arrived and the little shoot drank, thirsty from its efforts. It grew and grew and grew, and as it got bigger more animals began to visit it.

First came the ants, hurrying up and down the shoot to collect its old leaves as they shrivelled; next the beetle, who was looking for a place to shelter from the rain. The shoot grew stronger, and soon birds were able to perch on it to look for worms on the forest floor. Its trunk got stouter, and it grew taller still until, eventually, the birds could nest in its branches.

Bigger and bigger, higher and higher the oak tree reached. Over the years it had many animals make it their home: barn owls, woodpeckers, squirrels, woodlice, beetles, butterflies and gall wasps. The tree helped them all.

Fifty years the tree was standing, growing strong, basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays and soaking up the rain of many clouds. Then a terrible storm came. From a heavy grey sky, the wind howled, and thunder rumbled right down to the roots of the tree. A twist of fate, a misplaced branch, and the tree was struck by lightning. It split in two.

The next day, a woodcutter travelling through the forest saw that the tree had been damaged by the storm. They saw that it could not grow anymore and that it may fall and take other trees with it; other trees that were not yet ready to meet the earth. And so, the woodcutter set to work. They cut the dead branches of the tree away until all that was left was the stump. They took the wood home to make a fire to warm their house and cook food for their family.

They did not take more than they needed, though. They knew the tree had helped someone else, but it was not done yet. In fact, it’s still there in the forest.

If you look at the bottom of the old oak stump you can see a beetle has made its home among the leaves. A little mouse lives in a hollow of the root and mushrooms grow from the bark. If you look really, really closely, you can see the shoots of an acorn that fell the day the tree was struck by lightning. It is growing strong and reaching high.

The oak tree will grow again and help many more animals of the forest. So next time you see an oak tree, remember its journey. That is the magic of the forest.

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

Did you know there is a wolf in your garden? Don’t worry, it’s not a big howling, furry grey wolf. It’s a tiny wolf spider. Come with me; let’s have a look.

Between the cracks in the wall that run around the back of my garden, there is the most magnificent spider’s web. It may be small, but its strands of thread are strong and tough, and the web is known throughout the garden as a place from which none can escape. It has been spun by the wolf spider, a hairy black beast that lurks in the crevice of the wall and rushes at any insect that may stray too close to his home.

One day, a little ladybird was passing the wolf spider’s house. She was on her way up the wall to visit the woodlouse family. One of the little woodlice had been ill for some time and so the ladybird had made some of her medicinal elderberry rob cordial and was taking it to the mother woodlouse.

As she passed the crack in the wall, where the wolf spider lived, he rushed out to grab her.

‘Stop!’ said the little ladybird. ‘I have important supplies to deliver.’

For some reason, this time the wolf spider did stop. Perhaps it was curiosity, or the unusual bravery of such a little bug that made him hesitate.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked. ‘What is so important that I should forgo my lunch?’

‘The smallest woodlouse is very sick, and I must hurry to get him his medicine by dinner time.’

‘You have plenty of time,’ the spider said, looking up at the sun. ‘It is only one o’ clock, but of course, you must be on your way.’ He gave the ladybird a large hairy grin from leg to leg as she hurried on by.

The ladybird couldn’t believe her luck as she scurried on up the wall. What she didn’t realise was that the wolf spider knew of the woodlice in the garden but did not know where to find their home. Now he did. And now he knew where to get a free meal.

Running on up the wall, under the cover of the ivy, he overtook the ladybird and arrived at the woodlouse’s house. He ransacked the little nest, sending the woodlice to all the corners of the wall. Those who did not run fast enough made a tasty lunch for the wolf spider. He licked his lips and settled into the little woodlouse’s bed to await the arrival of the ladybird.

‘Hello,’ came the voice of the ladybird but she received no reply.

Full of woodlice, the wolf spider had fallen asleep; his belly round and wriggling with the tiny creatures. The ladybird got quite a shock when she saw the writhing stomach of the wolf spider and heard tiny voices from within. You see, in his hurry to eat all the woodlice the wolf spider had swallowed them alive.

Being careful not to wake the wolf spider, the little ladybird took a thorn from a nearby bramble and cautiously opened his stomach to set the woodlice free. Then she carefully sewed the wolf spider’s stomach back up with one of his own silken threads. All the while, the spider was asleep. The ladybird and the woodlice disappeared back into the ivy and left the wolf spider snoring loudly.

When he awoke, he found the house empty and a terrible itching in his stomach. For, when the ladybird had stitched him back up, she had filled his tummy with nettles! From that day on, the wolf spider stayed away from the woodlice and the ladybird now lives in happy peace beside the log pile.

It’s safe to say that the wolf spider has learnt his lesson but, then again, so has the little ladybird.

Pulling it out of the Hat

Once upon a time, there was a little boy, called Sebastian, who so wanted to be a magician. He practised every moment of every day and every night, but he still couldn’t master the most basic trick – pulling a rabbit out of a hat. He tried every which way to say the spell and, no matter how many times he tried, nothing happened; not even a scrap of fur appeared; not even a fluffy tail, a twitchy nose or a pair of pointy ears.

He practised everywhere he could – meadows, forests, park benches – and one day, when he was on his way home, he saw a poster announcing the arrival of the Grand Magi in his town. He knew this was his chance and so he bought himself a ticket for the next evening’s performance.

The evening came, and on entering the tent he found there were rows and rows of people standing to watch already and he couldn’t see a thing. He heard the oohs and the aahs as the Grand Magi performed trick after trick. There was one final, tremendous round of applause and the show was all over. Sebastian hadn’t seen any of it. Feeling downhearted, he left.

As he walked around the back of the tent to go home, he spotted light from under it and could see feet moving around. He heard the voice of the Grand Magi. He just had to get in there to talk to him. Squeezing under the edge of the tent, Sebastian arrived in the dressing room of the Grand Magi. Hands on hips, the Grand Magi’s assistant demanded to know what Sebastian thought he was doing.

‘It’s obvious isn’t it?’ said the Grand Magi. ‘He wants to see me and ask me about one of my tricks. Let him in and give him a glass of water, for goodness’ sake, he looks most flustered.’

‘Th-Thank you,’ stuttered Sebastian, taking the water from the assistant and gulping it. It had been hot in the tent and Sebastian’s mouth was suddenly very dry.

‘So, which trick do you wish to learn, boy?’ the Grand Magi asked.

‘I would love to know how to pull a rabbit out of a hat,’ said Sebastian. ‘I have practised and practised but still I have not mastered it.’

‘That’s an easy one, if you know how, of course,’ said the Grand Magi, stroking his beard. ‘First of all, you need to think like a rabbit: What does he eat? What does he look like? What does he do all day?’

It all sounded very strange to Sebastian and he went to say something, but the Grand Magi raised a finger to stop him.

‘Finally, and this is the most important ingredient, you need a drop of perspiration.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Sebastian, for he had never heard of perspiration.

‘Something you only get when you have been working very hard. Now, off you go and don’t break into my tent again.’

Sebastian left in a hurry, thanking the Grand Magi once more. On the path home, he stopped to sit on a fallen log, to ponder what the Grand Magi had said.

He looked up at the clear night sky and talked himself through the Grand Magi’s instructions.

‘Think like a rabbit? Hmm … let’s start with an easier one. What does a rabbit eat? Carrots and grass of course! What does he look like? White with a cotton wool tail! What does he do all day? He hops around and spends his time alert and vigilant. I’ve got it!’

Sebastian shot off the log and ran all the way home. Grabbing his magician’s hat, he collected carrots from the kitchen, cotton wool from his mother’s medicine chest and grass from the garden, before running to the bottom of his garden and putting the items into the hat. Then he hopped up and down holding the hat and saying the magic words. He thought hard about being a rabbit and listened to all the noises of the night around him: the screech of an owl, the rustle of a mouse and the crack of the tree branches up above. He hopped until the sun was coming up and he could feel the sweat beading on his forehead – but still there was no rabbit.

Looking down into the hat, he sighed, muttering the spell one last time. As he did, a drop of sweat rolled off his forehead and landed in the hat. Kaboom! A puff of smoke and a big, white, fluffy rabbit appeared. At last Sebastian had performed his first magic trick!

So, you see, with a little thought, some hard work and a drop of perspiration, you’ll always pull it out of the hat!

The Village Cauldron

It had been a hard winter in the village of Esuriit. Everyone was hungry. The farmer was down to her last few beans, the baker, the last of his oats and the cottage gardeners, their last few vegetables. There was little left for anyone and so a village meeting was called to decide what they should do about it. They desperately needed good weather to help the crops.

‘I have no chickens left,’ Rose, the farmer, complained. ‘Only bones and they will make no one a meal.’

‘I can’t make bread anymore,’ shrugged the baker. ‘I’m not sure what we’re all supposed to do?’

‘We could walk to the next village,’ suggested Lily, the granddaughter of the village’s wise woman.

‘I’ve heard they have nothing either,’ said the vicar.

‘Then we should gather together our resources,’ said Lily.

‘We have no resources! Haven’t you been listening? There is nothing left,’ the villagers exclaimed.

‘Ah, but we do!’ Lily turned to the blacksmith. ‘If you can get a fire going in the middle of the village, I shall bring the large cast iron cauldron I have from my grandmother’s time. You …’ Lily pointed at the villagers as she spoke, ‘you must bring what you have: chicken bones, beans, oats, the last of the carrots – whatever it is, please bring it.’

Lily, only slight of frame and even thinner from hunger, dragged the cauldron to the centre of the village. As she did so, her grandmother’s voice rang in her ears: ‘Keep the cauldron well and it will serve you … but never tell its secret for the villagers will not trust you.’

Lily had done just this. She had kept it safe, kept it clean and kept it from rusting and had never told its secret. Now, when the village was desperate, it was time to see what the cauldron could do.

As soon as she got to the middle of the village, where the blacksmith had made the fire, she asked him to make a stand on which to put the cauldron. She filled the cauldron with water from the well and placed it on the stand above the fire. As the villagers arrived, she got them to put the things they had brought into the cauldron.

The pot began to boil and, as more and more villagers placed their leftovers in it, tendrils of aromatic steam rose from it. Tummies rumbled and lips were licked. The villagers could now see what Lily had in mind.

‘The Grand Soup is ready!’ Lily announced, and the villagers queued with their bowls as Lily ladled it out. ‘What is a little for one, together is plenty for all!’

‘Hear, hear!’ the villagers cheered, as their bellies were full. For the next few weeks, the blacksmith kept the fire going and the cauldron was replenished with whatever the villagers found at the back of their pantries. The cauldron served them well.

None of them could explain why, no matter what the ingredients, the soup always tasted delicious. But they didn’t care. The Grand Soup got them through the tough times.

Soon the rain fell, the sun shone, and the crops grew again. Spring was here. The fire was extinguished beneath the cauldron and Lily put the cauldron away again until the villagers might have need of it once more. Only Lily knew the truth. She could still see the twinkle in her grandmother’s eye.

‘Keep the cauldron well and it will serve you … but never tell its secret: it’s magic.’

Activities

Starting your Adventure Journal

Throughout this book, you will find a variety of different adventures to go on, just like the characters in the stories. These adventures will also help you to create your very own stories, so now is a great time to start your ‘Adventure Journal’.

You can use a notebook, but if you’d like to make your own, why not take some scrap paper, punch some holes on one edge and lace it together with string, wool or thread. Write, draw and even stick things in that you find on your adventures. Just remember that there are a few rules for adventuring:

Always make sure you are wearing the correct clothing and footwear so that you will be warm and dry.

Always take an adult with you.

Stick to the footpaths.

Make sure you ask an adult before you pick anything or take anything home.

Leave nothing behind. Take all your belongings and rubbish home with you.

Old Tree Stump Finds

For this month’s adventure, we are going into the wood to see if we can find an old tree stump, like the one in the story of ‘The Old Oak Tree’. For this adventure, you might want to take with you:

a finds tub – these are usually small, round containers with a magnifying glass on the top

your Adventure Journal

a pencil

binoculars

a snack and a drink for refuelling.

The next job is to find an old tree stump. If you don’t have any woodland near you then you could try looking for where shrubs have been cut back in the local park.

Once you have found your habitat, take a look around it, under the leaves, broken twigs and old seed heads, and see if you can find any insects. You may find woodlice, spiders, centipedes or even millipedes.

Look at what is growing on the bark, too. There are mosses, lichens and fungi growing all around the woodlands and they love damp, rotting bark and branches. Examine them more closely with the magnifying glass on the top of your finds tub and have a go at drawing them.

If you want to be scientific, you could make a small, square frame out of four twigs and record what insects, leaves, seeds, mosses, lichen and fungi you can find in that one square.

You can also use your binoculars to look up into the canopy for any birds that might be around. Blackbirds, wood pigeons, rooks and magpies are the bigger birds that you will see easily. Then look further down on the woodland floor. You might spot a little brown bird, that’s probably a dunnock or a wren.

Make a note of what you find, so that once you are at home you can write your very own story about the life of the tree or shrubs you looked at.

What’s the Time, Mr Wolf?

You will need at least three people to play this game. One of you pretends to be the wolf spider and the others are the ladybirds. The wolf spider stands in front of the other players with their back to them. The ladybirds stand a good distance away from the wolf spider.

The ladybirds start to slowly move forward and all ask together, ‘What’s the time, Mr Wolf?’

The wolf spider tells them the time, e.g.: 1, 2, 3, 4 o’ clock. The ladybirds then move that number of steps forward. When the wolf spider decides to, they shout ‘Dinner time!’ instead of the time and the ladybirds run away.

The first ladybird to be tagged by the wolf spider is the next wolf spider and the game begins again. If a ladybird reaches the wolf spider before they have shouted, ‘Dinner time!’, they are the winner and can choose the next person to be wolf spider.

If you are outside, the person playing the wolf spider could hide behind a tree or a bush, just like the wolf spider who hides in the wall in the story, ‘Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf’.

The Magic of Nature

The world around us is full of magic, just as Sebastian discovered in ‘Pulling it out of the Hat’. Here are a few magic tricks you can perform at home with a little help from nature.

Rainbow Flowers

Take some white flowers, for example, carnations, gerberas or roses. Cut the stems to around 10cm long and place them in cup with approximately 100ml of water. Carefully add a teaspoon of your chosen food colouring to the water. You could try several different colours in different cups to create a rainbow. Leave overnight, and in the morning your flowers will have changed colour. Colours that work well are green, blue, yellow and orange.

Cockleshells and pebbles

If you are near a beach, collect three large shells such as cockleshells or oyster shells. Find a small pebble that will fit under them all. Now find someone to play the game with you.

Find a flat surface to put the shells on. Place the stone under one of the shells and ask your friend to play close attention as you mix all three shells up. Now ask your friend which shell the pebble is under. Did they guess correctly?

A Juicy Message

You will need a small paintbrush or cotton wool bud, a slice of white bread, lemon juice and a toaster for this trick. Squeeze out some lemon juice into a pot. Take the slice of bread and write a message on it with the lemon juice, using the paintbrush or cotton wool bud. Let the lemon juice dry. Now, toast your bread and, hey presto, your secret message will appear.

Minestrone Soup

Serves 6

Originally from Italy, Minestrone soup can be made with a variety of different ingredients depending on what people have in their cupboards. Traditionally, it is a tomato-based vegetable soup with beans, pasta and/or rice. In this version we use orzo pasta, which is Italian for barley, as the tiny pasta shapes look like grains of barley.

Have fun with this recipe and experiment. Substitute spinach for kale, carrot for potato, basil for parsley or swap orzo pasta for rice. Use up what you have left in your cupboard, just like they do in the story of ‘The Village Cauldron’.

Ingredients

1 small red onion

2 medium carrots

1 tbsp olive oil

1 clove garlic

½ tsp dried basil

1 vegetable stock cube

2 tsp tomato puree

2 tsp balsamic vinegar

1 × 400g can chopped tomatoes

1 × 400g can cannellini beans

600ml water

50g orzo pasta

100g baby spinach

Method

Peel and finely slice the onion.

Peel and dice the carrots.

Add the olive oil to a large pan with the onion and carrots. Cook on a medium heat until they begin to soften. This should take about 10 minutes. Peel and crush the garlic.

Add the garlic and cook for a further minute. Add the canned tomatoes, dried basil, tomato puree and balsamic vinegar to the pan and cook for a further 2–3 minutes.

Add the stock cube to 600ml of boiling water and dissolve. Drain and rinse the cannellini beans. Add the cannellini beans and the stock to the pan. Bring to a simmer. Add the orzo pasta and simmer for 15 minutes or until the pasta is cooked through.

Add the spinach, cook through, season with salt and pepper and serve with crusty bread and butter.

White bells of hope

Push through frosted ground

The woodland is awake

There are treasures to be found

Walk to the Beat of Your Own Drum

There once was a drummer boy who set out to find his fortune. He packed some bread and cheese in a handkerchief, slung his drum around his neck and off he went. He knew the path would be long, but he had time, and he would play his drum to keep pace along the way.

He hadn’t gone far when a hawk heard the rat-ta-tat-tat of the drummer boy’s drum and came down to see who it was.

‘That is a fine rhythm you are playing there,’ said the hawk, ‘but if you play a little faster, I can beat my wings in time to the drum and catch us a rabbit for dinner.’

This was a great idea, thought the drummer boy, and he beat the sticks on the hide of the drum a little faster. With it, his pace quickened, and life felt good. After a day of walking, the hawk had caught them three rabbits and they stopped under an oak tree to cook and feast on their catch.

‘Perhaps you will join me on my journey tomorrow?’ the drummer boy asked.

‘Gladly,’ replied the hawk.

The next day, as the drummer boy and the hawk marched on, a dog, sleeping in a nearby barn, heard the drum’s rhythm and stuck his head out of the barn door. He saw the companions and bounded up to them.

‘Hello, friends,’ he said, and then to the drummer boy, ‘If you beat your drum a little faster, I can run with you and flush out the rabbits for the hawk.’

‘A fabulous plan,’ said the drummer boy, and he picked up the pace. Now he was running to keep up. The dog ran and the hawk swooped, and the rabbits dashed this way and that. By lunchtime they had caught five rabbits, but the drummer was exhausted, and his feet ached.

‘I will have to rest,’ he said. ‘Let us camp here and enjoy the rabbits we have caught today.’

‘Good idea,’ said the dog and the hawk, and they all settled down to a grand meal.

The next day they started off again. The dog and the hawk kept up the pace and the drummer focused on the path ahead, lengthening his footsteps and striding on.

Soon they came upon a horse who was grazing in the meadow and he raised his head as he heard the drumbeat. He could see the drummer was tired and that the dog and the hawk were almost leaving him behind.