A moment I have been thinking about for quite a while was a couple of weeks ago on The Land. It was a day when a child was trying to throw foam on the fire and another, who I'll refer to as Jack was cursing like a witch. I had been playing with a third child with the wooden sword I'd found; he was cutting off my legs.
Jack had shouted me over to have a look at his leg after coming out of the office. I had a look at the bruise and asked him where he had hurt it. He told me it was in the shanty town (a big wooden den/maze/setting that I'll hopefully write about at some point) and then told me to follow him so he could show me where it was. He showed me and then we went separate ways and I carried on playing with the third child. But on the way there Jack noted that the old sandpit had gone. He asked where it had gone and told me that he'd liked playing in it when he used to come. I pointed out the other sandpit down the bottom and he started to reminisce about filling up buckets with sand and water.
Which leads me to twenty minutes later when Jack approached me again and told me to close my eyes. I had no idea what he was going to do or where he wanted to take me but I closed them anyway, fearful that he would just punch me in the nuts and run. He led me on the perilous journey from the top of the Land, down the hill, over the bridge and across the woodchip. He led me over a good beam and then told me to open my eyes.
We were standing at the sandpit down the bottom and after finding a shovel and bucket he began to re-enact his play memory with me by filling the bucket up with sand. I went to find another bucket to fill up with water so he could add that to the mixture. He poured the water in and I went to get more, always making the sure the mixture was wet but not drowning. I got some more and then we swapped, I began shovelling the sand into the bucket, which was big and black, and Jack went to get water.
When he came back the first child came over and asked what was going on, Jack explained and this child asked if he could join in. I found another shovel as the two both shifted sand and I went to get more water. This was all in about five minutes and then we found we had too much water, so I moved sand to catch up while the others decided how much water to add making the mixture right. Now the third child (who was a lot younger) came over and helped too and once full Jack wanted it all to go into the brook. I helped carry the bucket/tub out of the sandpit with the first child and they started putting it in.
By now I had begun removing myself from the play, The third child's presence had replaced me and the play had evolved. They continued to throw the sand into the brook and only when observing from a distance did I realise the significance of what I had been a part of.
That being, that in many other settings Jack, the first and the third child would have all been banned from the space. Jack for his swearing, The first child for trying to put foam in the fire and the third child for whacking staff with a wooden stick.
And had that been the case their play would never have been able to evolve and change and Jack would never have been able to re-visit that play memory that was birthed on the same space. The same play memory that acted as a play sun (which I'll also hopefully write about at some point) for both the first and third child.
It was nice to know that the setting had both created a play memory and allowed it to be re-visited, and that Jack wanted me to re-visit it with him was flattering.
And that's my pondering for today.
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