Bear Hunt
We're going on a bear hunt.
We're going to catch a big one.
What a beautiful day! We're not scared.
Uh-oh! Grass! Long wavy grass.
We can't go over it.
We can't go under it.
Oh no! We've got to go through it!
Swishy swashy! Swishy swashy! Swishy swashy!
There’s a wonderful kind of nostalgia and charm in reading the books that you grew up with to your own children. It also makes one rediscover how so much of early language learning is repetition and rhyme. Noah loves Michael Rosen’s classic We’re Going on a Bear Hunt. A thousand readings on, he now joins in with all the sound effects and finishes the sentences. Everything escalates in volume and excitement the closer the family gets to the bear’s cave.
In these unprecedented times and particularly when the nation-wide lockdown was at its height, ‘going on a bear hunt’ became a reality. I don’t know whose idea it was originally, but families in various suburbs put up toy bears and drawings of rainbows in their windows for children to spot when out for walks.
So at least once a week, we take a long walk around the neighbourhood to get some fresh air and a change of environment from the walls of our house. We head in all sorts of directions, sometimes to get pastries, sometimes towards the train tracks, sometimes with nowhere in particular in mind. Along the way, we spotted many different sort of bears. Some houses were particularly creative. We even saw some big teddy bears wearing masks. “Bears don’t wear masks!” said Noah in his incredulous voice. They do in the time of corona, I thought, feeling it was somewhat bittersweet.
With playgrounds cordoned off, children find ways to play in all sorts of places - pavements are etched with chalk for hopscotch and other ‘obstacle courses’. The community spirit certainly brought a bit of joy and adventure for cooped up little ones amidst the social distancing.
As we begin the journey home, we play catch, in an effort to expend some of Noah’s indefatigable energy and to prolong the joy of being outside.
It’s been strangely heartening, and simultaneously somewhat heartbreaking to see how young children come to comprehend the changed reality and living with a new normal. The expansion of their vocabulary so that “the virus”, “lockdown” and “hand sanitizer” become part of everyday language. The questions and statements: “The supermarket has no more pasta!!! Why we can’t go to the playground? We have to wash our hands really carefully. I want to pray for the virus please.”
For many of us amongst the frustration and uncertainty, I think the restrictions bring with them a renewed appreciation for the comfort of our homes and the little graces found in our own neighbourhood - slow morning walks, the smell from the local bakery, the distanced nods and smiles of other residents.
As the second wave of the virus hits Melbourne and stage 3 restrictions are back on (the highest level), I found myself repeating the words of the book - I’m not scared! What a beautiful day. We’ve got to go through it.
