The imagination of a child is truly a precious thing. Before the ways of the world and common sense are stamped into those malleable brains, they can come up with some pretty amazing ideas, far beyond the grasp of someone accustomed to assuming the obvious answers. The greatest tragedy is that we can’t see our surroundings through such a creative lens as we grow older and “wiser.” For example, I know full well that the stoplights are set to change either at fixed intervals of time, or according to sensors that detect traffic flow. When I was much younger, however, I was convinced that it was someone’s job at every single intersection to keep an eye on traffic, and switch the lights manually. This person might also know if you had been good or bad that day, and speed up or delay the lights as they saw fit. It made perfect sense at the time, and I would always breathe a sigh of relief when the light finally turned green, proving I had been a good little girl that day.
Another thing I always wondered about was where the forest creatures went at night, or when it suddenly turned chilly or rainy. Did they have their own little blankets and umbrellas hidden away, to be removed from storage only when nobody was looking? Even that idea was a little far fetched for me to believe, but I had my own theories…
In the cover of darkness, deep within the woods where no one was looking, every night the animals would convene for big slumber parties. Together, they would share each others warmth and company, instantly becoming the best of friends. All would return to normal in the morning, the circle of life and survival of the fittest back into effect, but just for the evenings, animals large and small would act like family. From the birds to the mooses, it didn’t matter the species, there would be peace and community within the animal kingdom. I could practically picture it: Birds of all colors would flock to the safety of outstretched antlers, and nestle in for the evening, perfectly warm and cozy. Like a trusty mobile home, surely the moose could move to take shelter from a storm if needed, and danger could easily be outrun.
Looking through the eyes of a child, doesn’t that scheme tie up the unknown, loose ends nicely and make good sense? I’d sure like to hear you propose a better idea!
[Knit moose pattern from Knitting MochiMochi by Anna Hrachovec]