My five year old came in the back door last Tuesday with both fists closed and would not open them until I sat down. Inside one was an acorn cap. Inside the other was a dead beetle. The beetle went back outside, over loud objection. The acorn cap is still on my windowsill, and honestly it has done more teaching this month than anything I printed.
That is fall nature study at our house. It is not a unit. It is a kitchen door that keeps opening, and me slowing down to look at what is in his hand.
What nature study actually looks like with a three year old and a five year old
I want to be plain with you, because I spent my first year feeling like I was doing it wrong. Nature study with little ones is not a two hour hike with a field guide and watercolor pencils. Mine lasts about twenty minutes, ends when the three year old's legs are done, and produces one interesting thing we talk about over lunch.
That is enough. At this age you are not teaching botany. You are teaching a child to notice, and to wonder, and to attach that wonder to the God who made it. My boys cannot read a leaf key. They can tell me the oak by our mailbox drops its leaves later than the maple, because we have stood under both since September.
If you are still deciding whether any of this is worth your morning, I wrote out the case for homeschooling and the questions I get asked most over here. Nature study was one of the first things that made our days feel like ours instead of a copy of somebody else's.
Set the table the night before
This is the one habit that changed fall for me. Before I go to bed I clear one end of the big table in our classroom and put out a shallow basket, a tray, a plate, whatever you have. That is the nature basket. Everything the boys bring home goes in it, and nothing else is allowed on that end of the table. For two years we did this at the kitchen table, and if you are working at the kitchen table, clear one end the night before and it works just the same.
In the morning they check it before breakfast. Half the time yesterday's leaves have curled up overnight and that is the lesson. "Look what happened while we were asleep. Why do you think it went crispy?" My three year old says "because it's tired." Fine. We are not writing a paper.
If you want the table itself to work harder for you, I put down my whole approach in how we set up our homeschool space, which started at the kitchen table and is now a room with good light, a reading nook and a wall of woven baskets.
Five things to do this week, ten minutes each
Here is the actual list I work from. Pick one a day. Do not do all five, one is plenty for you and for them.
- Leaf rubbings. Paper over a leaf, side of a crayon, rub. Then say, "Look at all these lines. Those are the veins. They carry water to every part of the leaf, like the veins in your arm carry blood." Let them find the veins on their own wrist. That is your whole science lesson.
- The color hunt. Take out an egg carton and a marker. Color one dot in each cup, six colors. Go outside and fill each cup with something that matches. The three year old can do this. It is the only game that keeps him walking.
- Big, small, same. Bring home a handful of acorns and pinecones and sort them on the tray. Biggest to smallest. Two piles. Which pile has more? You have just done math on the floor, and if you want it on paper afterwards, the Woodland Math patterns and sorting page does the same thing with big and small and tracing numbers four, five and six.
- Where did the birds go? Stand still for sixty seconds and count the birds you hear. Do it again in two weeks. The number changes, and that is your migration conversation. The life cycle of a bird worksheet has cut-and-sequence cards and a paper nest craft that pair with this beautifully on a rainy afternoon.
- One seed. Split open a maple helicopter or a milkweed pod and look at the seed inside. "God put a whole tree inside this little thing." My five year old did not believe me. We planted three. One of them came up, which was more than I expected.
What to say when you do not know the answer
I get asked this more than anything else, and I think it is what keeps mamas inside. You do not need to know the name of the bug. I have said "I have no idea, let's find out after lunch" about four hundred times and my boys have never once thought less of me for it.
Try these three sentences. They are most of what I use.
"What do you notice?"
Not "what is this." Notice is a question a three year old can answer. Color, shape, holes, smell, whether it is wet.
"I wonder why."
I wonder why the squirrels are busy. I wonder why this side of the tree has moss and that side does not. You are not obligated to answer. Wondering out loud is the model.
"Who made it that way?"
This is the one that turns a walk into worship. We say it about caterpillars and sunsets and the awful smell of the creek in October. The psalmist said the heavens are declaring, present tense, right now, out our back door. My boys are learning that the created world is not just interesting, it is a message with a sender.
Bringing it back to the table
After the walk we come in, wash hands, and sit down at the classroom table for one small thing on paper while the kettle boils. Some days that is a drawing of whatever is in the basket. Some days it is a one-page printable, because I am tired and paper is a mercy. Autumn is when we do parts of a plant with the boys, since there are dried stalks in every field around us to point at, and my five year old likes the paper bag plant craft on the back end of it.
Everything in the worksheet shop is one page, US letter, print at home, and made for ages two through seven. They are four dollars, or two if you are a member, and joining is free and stays free. Members also get a nature walk list I made for exactly these mornings, plus a weekly rhythm chart and a morning basket guide.
And if your fall is not going well, if the walk ended in tears and the basket is full of gravel, come sit in the members' forum. There is a room for the hard days and I am in it.
The acorn cap is still on my windowsill. I am not moving it.
