Camping out indoors

Deepa Bharath

J

ackson Anthony couldn’t sit in one place while the rain fell

steadily outside.

Inside the Environmental Nature Center, in the cozy heat, his

campmates were sitting around a table stringing beads and talking.

They were supposed to float boats outside today. It was the last day

of camp.

Nature, which they had been learning about for the last week as

part of the Discovery Days camp, had other plans.

Jackson, 6, was long done with the beads. He wore the colorful

string around his neck and walked about, just “checking things out,”

he said. He peered into a microscope. He looked up puzzled. He picked

up a plastic box with a dead, hairy tarantula inside.

“That’s a big spider,” he told himself.

He climbed up a chair at the entrance to the center.

“Now, Jackson,” said Lori Whalen, program director at the center.

“We don’t want to go there after what happened the other day, right?”

Jackson didn’t reply. He just got off the chair and started

walking toward a cup with several pens in it. Then, he walked once

around the table where the others were sitting, still engrossed in

their beads. He went around and hugged naturalist Dan Green, who was

running the workshop.

Over the last week, Green had taught Jackson and the other

children how to make rockets and shoot them up in the air. They blew

giant bubbles together and made little wooden cars that they

test-drove outside. Their colorful gliders, decorated with paint and

glitter and propelled by a rubber band, landed on the rustic greenery

behind the center.

Michael Reo was disappointed with the rain.

“I forgot what we were going to do today,” the 8-year-old said,

picking up a blue bead. “But I wanted to be outside. It would’ve been

fun.”

On any other day, 10-year-old Yun Seo, would’ve preferred to sit

inside and make jewelry she likes to wear.

“But I love the rain,” she said smiling. “My teacher at school

used to let us go out in the rain and play.”

Jack Tomei doesn’t share Yun’s love for the rain.

“It’s too cold outside,” the 6-year-old said, rubbing his hands.

His friend, Jack Kearl, also 6, agreed.

“We’re Jack and Jack,” Jack Tomei said with a laugh.

Jack Tomei made his necklace with 101 beads.

“One hundred ...and one,” he said repeatedly. “That’s a nice

number, huh?”

He liked the workshop because he learned about different means of

transportation, about how people used to travel and how they might

travel in the future.

“What if,” he said, pausing. “What if people can fly? What if

Peter Pan was real?”

“No, I’m kidding,” he said quickly, with a small giggle.

The rain showed no sign of letting up. A mist had settled in the

parking lot, which was pied with puddles. There was probably a half

an hour left before their parents would drive in to pick them up.

“We’re not going to float boats today,” said Michael, shaking his

head.

But even Michael cheered up when Whalen called everyone around to

play charades.

“OK,” said Whalen, taking control. “One of you is going to act

like an animal. I have their names and pictures in my hand. The rest

of you are going to guess what animal it is.”

Jack Kearl walked up to Whalen and looked at the card she held

with the name and picture of an animal on it. He got down and crawled

on all fours as the others yelled out their guesses.

“Skunk.”

“Dog.”

“It crawls,” Jack hinted.

“Snake.”

“No,” Whalen intercepted. “It has a tongue and sticks it out like

that.”

“Lizard,” said Chang Seo, jumping up.

“You’re right,” Whalen said with a smile. “But I’m not giving out

any more clues. Makes it too easy.”

It was close to 3 p.m. Two moms walked in the door.

“It’s quiet in here,” one of them said, seemingly surprised.

Rain is not unusual during this annual holiday camp, Green said.

“It rains every single year,” he said. “I should have gotten used

to it by now.”

The children filed out one after another as their parents came in.

Even Michael had forgotten about the rain and his quiet last day at

the camp. He was already out the door, walking across the slushy

parking lot with his mom and sister.

* DEEPA BHARATH covers public safety and courts. She may be

reached at (949) 574-4226 or by e-mail at deepa.bharath@ atimes.com.