Anywhere, anywhere. I don’t know.

I don’t quite know how it happens – how one season comes and goes so quickly, how a year passes in the exhale of one breath. But here is March again, and I’m still getting used to it being another year, still trying to gear myself up for my smallest one’s upcoming first birthday.

Spring is most certainly here now. I know it because there are snowdrops and crocuses breaking through the dreggs of our winter garden. Because our plans increasingly involve parks or outdoor spaces, and on days when we have no solid plans at all, we find ourselves with friends wandering through town, in the city centre gardens, chasing Littles in play through the sharp breeze in the air.

This is what I love most about Spring – the possibility of what a day can hold is so much more. We have been winging our days a lot lately, venturing farther without much notice.

I know it must be Spring because I wake up to light and bird chatter and it is easier to get out of bed. Ezra has started walking, his first steps a few days before his 10 month birthday. Today we got him his first (soft) shoes so that he can explore the parks and playgrounds we take Ava to.


My mind feels a little lighter and our days are flowing with a more natural rhythm. I’ve stopped (just for a moment) thinking about this part of our unschooling journey and I’m enjoying where we each are, right now.

Ava is busy playing, and learning so much every day. She is writing everywhere, reading words here and there, building dens and beds, playing with her friends.

Ezra is busy moving, babbling and walking or bopping to music, hitting drums and xylophones (or any hard surface) and following his sister around constantly.


I’ve been sleeping less, in part because Ezra is waking a lot right now and sometimes deciding not to sleep at all, and in part because I have that excited feeling that accompanies the lighter days. That sense of things to do, of fun to be had.

I’m dreaming up plans for our garden, drawing up ideas for little holidays planned with family and friends. My making list is packed with projects, mostly fuelled by the number of good friends who are currently expecting babies soon.

I’m nearly finished my first quilt of the year (and my third in wonky log cabin style – ever since this cushion two years ago I really can’t get enough of it) and then it’s straight on to Ezra’s first birthday quilt which is half-made in a diagonal string style.


I have felted wall hangings to embroider, little felted ladies to finish and felted bunting to make.

And although my evenings right now are largely governed by a teething, restless Ezra and The Good Wife or 24, I’m managing to knit a few stitches here and there, which is really the only way I can ever get anything done.

I can’t help but dream of days when we are mostly outside. When Ava and Ezra and their friends swing between the sandpit and the paddling pool and the flowers spill over the garden pots and there is always some pitcher of cool, sweet juice being passed around.

I know summer is some way off, but the dream of those days begins here, in March, after the relentlessly damp days of January and February.

I came across this poem in one of Ava’s books yesterday (‘When We Were Young’ by A.A.Milne) and I think it’s the perfect description of Spring I’ve ever read:

Spring Morning

Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’t know.

Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.

If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You’d sail on water as blue as air,
And you’d see me here in the fields and say:
“Doesn’t the sky look green today?”

Where am I going? The high rooks call:
“It’s awful fun to be born at all.”
Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:
“We do have beautiful things to do.”

If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You’d lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You’d say to the wind when it took you away:
“That’s where I wanted to go today!”

Where am I going? I don’t quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don’t know.


About Kendal

I'm Kendal Mosley-Chalk. I live in York with my husband and four children.
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