Beyond Babywearing: Why Newborns Belong at Free Forest School
By Katherine Wilcox Dudley
Baby Hollis at Free Forest School Durango. Image by Katherine Wilcox Dudley. Used with permission.
There may be a sentiment that children will get more out of Free Forest School if they’re hiking, interacting with others, and getting dirty. Our groups nationwide seem to consist of more walkers and beyond, with many of the tiny humans hitting the trails with an older sibling. I think newborns belong in the forest, and not merely as an accompaniment to the more mobile members of the family.
From Chaos to Calm
When I agreed to take on Free Forest School in Durango, Baby Hollis was a cranky, overwhelmed 6-week-old, struggling to adjust to the world. We were all figuring out life as a family of four, and getting outside was one way we coped with the moments of insanity. Finding a bit of peace in nature helped us take deep breaths. We would figure this out—together. Making the call to bring my baby out into the forest every week seemed like a natural, but challenging, idea. I decided to pack the diapers and embrace the challenges, taking note of the benefits along the way.
We launched our local Free Forest School when Hollis was 11 weeks old. Although she had outgrown her bouts of uncontrolled crying, she remained an observant and feisty little being. I packed up the essential baby gear, took a big swig of coffee, and we headed to the San Juan National Forest. At first my little sidekick slept through most of it, cuddled up in her familiar comfort-zone. The movement of me hiking, my voice, and the calm of nature lulled her to sleep. My still-adjusting newborn was so contented that some of her best naps were at forest school. It was, well… magical.
There must be more to it than magic. I think about how our shared affect at such an early stage inevitably contributed to the peace we both found outdoors during those tough weeks. Multiple studies have examined how babies sense and respond to stress in their caregivers. I believe it. There is strong emotional attunement that connects parent and baby. Feeling a parent’s stressed and tight body melt to calm creates a comfortable and safe space. I strive to give this version of myself to my baby, and I know I’m not alone in finding peace, serenity and renewed energy in nature.
Fast forward a few months, and now Hollis is a somewhat different baby. She’s alert, awake more often, and stimulated by change and novelty. Not yet mobile, the somewhat static views inside at home become monotonous and she seeks out new understandings and connections. We do what we can to play new games, introduce new toys and ideas, and big sister tirelessly entertains. But these efforts to create stimulation for Hollis are unparalleled by the constant change and sensory experience of the outdoors.
Awakening the Senses
All five of our senses work together to perceive and understand experiences. Nature offers a poignant illustration of the synergy of our senses. Though newborns are not hiking, eating shared snack, or engaging in innovative play, their senses are awakening in profound ways:
The babbling creek races across the river rock, and grows louder as we approach. Birds and other animals chatter. Children collaborate, imagine, laugh, and wonder together. The breeze rustles the leaves and grasses. Sometimes, we experience an indescribable quiet. The heartbeat of nature is accompanied by my familiar heartbeat as my baby cuddles up to my chest.
The wind blows through her hair and across her skin. In winter, an icy chill kisses her nose and in summer, the sun bathes her in warmth. She lays on a thin blanket and feels the stones under her back, reaching for the dirt and twigs within arm’s reach.
Birds, squirrels, and butterflies dart in different directions, defying gravity; following their paths encourages the development of eye tracking. The branches and leaves sway above her as she gazes in amazement. Friendly faces of other forest schoolers interacting with her become familiar over the weeks. She watches the hiking, balancing, digging, stone stacking, and throwing—constantly learning. And, oh, the shapes and colors!
She breathes and tastes different air than when she’s inside at home. Cars are too far away to inundate our air with exhaust. It’s fresh. It smells like the forest – trees, grasses, wildflowers, the creek water, soil.
Baby Hollis, Free Forest School Durango. Photo by Katherine Wilcox Dudley. Used with permission.
To the infant, everything is new. Details and phenomena that we’ve seen hundreds of times are special mysteries to observe and investigate. The forest is full of opportunities for even the newest human to create connections, build curiosities, and find serenity.
Hollis is now approaching 10 months, and she’s been at Free Forest School with us every week and in all kinds of weather – hot & sunny, rainy, cold & snowy, and perfect SW Colorado days. We’ve applied sunscreen and battled hats, covered up in multiple rain jackets, and bundled up from head to toe. My tiny newborn has been growing up in the forest and is on now on the verge of walking. She’s learned so much already, and we’ve only just begun.
Have diaper changes in the dirt, attempted pine needle snacks, digging through seven layers of clothing to nurse on a frozen creek, and circle time meltdowns been easy? Nope.
Has it all been worth it? Beyond measure.
Katherine Wilcox Dudley with her daughters. Free Forest School Durango. Used with permission.
Katherine is the Director/Facilitator of Free Forest School in Durango, CO. She is a reading/literacy specialist, and spent nine years teaching elementary school before taking on her role as a stay-at-home mom. Katherine, her husband, and two daughters love to explore as a family – on foot, on two wheels, on boats, and sometimes just sitting on a rock or camping chair with a view.