One of the many things I love about our beautiful campus is the way that fallen logs are re-imagined around the grounds. In other schools I have worked at, these would have been sawn up into wood chips and removed instantly, rendered as something useless needing to be disposed of. Living with an environmental scientist, I am subjected to lengthy diatribes about the importance of fallen trees and logs being left in ecosystems, and am regularly reminded of the dual-evil of Canberra’s love affair with log fires for heating – that wood fires release a range of pollutants that greatly reduce our air quality AND deny our native flora and fauna of both habitat and food. So there is something beautifully poetic and respectful about the reverence we pay to fallen trees and logs at Orana.
Logs around our school serve many purposes. They are transformed into beautiful pieces of art by clever artisans, or into forts, sailing vessels and horses by children’s imaginations. They feature in our playgrounds, serve as seats around fire pits, and act as negotiated boundary lines for staff and students: “You mustn’t go past the fallen logs as I can’t see you” or “This log will be home base and if you’re touching it, you’re safe.” Children spend entire lunch breaks inspecting colonies of ants and bugs that meander across and burrow under our fallen logs and will diligently report any new fungi growth they have detected to whichever teacher is on yard duty at the time.
For me there is something comforting about this acknowledgement of nature, and the literature teacher in me muses on the underlying metaphor that things can serve a new purpose rather than being disposed of when an original purpose is no longer possible; that there is great beauty in agedness and nurturing in stillness. But that is the folly of adults, to always look beyond what is immediately gratifying, such as an unusual species of bug or an imaginary pirate ship navigating dragon-infested seas. Much better to focus on the infectious laughter of a group of students balancing on a log, arms outstretched, their faces a study in fierce concentration that melts into proud grins as they master their challenge and effortlessly leap off the end, and to simply delight in their delight.
Charmaine Rye – Head of Primary / Deputy Principal
