There is sense of 'newness' in Jarrah Miah; for some it's a new school, a new classroom, new friends and teachers, new cygnet and swan children. The children are playing and working with rigour and richness, as we all transition from the half days into full days, and the start of a new school year.

Our beautiful gardens create many opportunities to be immersed in and observe nature. Towards the end of last year some of the children found a tiny white egg in the playground, it was quickly scooped up and added to the nature table. The children watched in anticipation for the egg to hatch. What will emerge? What new life will we witness? But to no avail the egg never hatched. It sat lifeless like an exhibit, plucked from its natural world to sit in a man-made museum. The children were disappointed.

One of the children (who loves to wander and explore the garden, looking in every nook and cranny) found hidden within a tree stump, a collection of little white eggs. He immediately recognised the eggs as being the same as the one discovered last year and rounded up the whole class, who excitedly took turns in discovering the little treasures that had been delicately laid. There were some who were poking and prodding and wanted to extract the eggs but the new swans, remembering their experiences last year simply informed the other new children:

This is 'mother nature',  leave them be,

These little orbs of new life have been left there by their mother so carefully, 

Safely and warmly guarded by the tree

It is not for you or for me to take from mother nature, leave them be"

The children took turns peering into the hole, which could only be seen one at a time. The older children helped guide the younger ones to be patient and everybody got a turn. There was so much curiosity and excitement and the class became a cohesive cohort, talking and working together, to stand guard and watch.

A little time passed, when something quite remarkable happened. One of the children, who had keenly continued to observe, shrieked with joy as he had witnessed one of the little eggs crack open and a tiny lizard emerged and climbed up the tree. Everybody joined in the merriment of this birth, with squeals of jubilation and delight. For some they enjoyed being swept up in the excitement of the moment, there was singing and dancing and disbelief of what had happened.  One of the eggs cracked, the children watched as the lizard did not survive and they watched as the ants moved in to feed and clear the hollow space.
 

For some it was a victory overcoming the disappointment of last year's egg and deep reflection and contemplation. Some were able to express the wisdom that they had acquired, that in becoming custodians of this new life they had been gifted the joy and wonder of mother nature. Some were saddened by the sobering reality of life and death.

The inherent message learned in these moments imbue a sense of custodianship to the earth and its creatures, that this lore of the land is beyond our own man-made laws. We are all mere guests walking the earth and our children are the future custodians of the planet. I have so much faith in these children and I feel so blessed to be their teacher this year in Jarrah Miah.