Long, long ago, when I used row on the rivers around the west of England, it wasn’t uncommon to find unpleasant things floating in the water. At that time I coached a series of youth crews, all determined as well as being full of the high spirits of sporting teenagers. Whenever we passed by one of these unpleasantnesses there was nothing that could dissuade the crews from paddling over to take a look. ‘Cor that cow’s all bloated!’ Then, as the inverted corpse drifted by ‘Poke it with your oar Finn- go on.’ This fascination does not begin with the teenage years but seems to be innate in all children and so it is at forest school.

Memes on Facebook and elsewhere call out to us to wander idyllic green and dappled paths to ‘find a better connection’. No sight of anything other than crisp, fresh natural beauty. So it may be if one stays on the path and follows the signs but this is not the way of things at forest school. Not only are we in the woods in all seasons and all weathers but we absolutely don’t stay on the paths. One of the mantras of forest school is long sleeves and long trousers for all, specifically so we don’t have to stick to the paths. Of course once we’re off the paths and everyone is exploring in different directions, all sorts of unexpected finds are made.

A frequent find in our woods is assorted animal dung. We teach the children that the woodland/ science word for this is scat. Once this has settled in everyone’s minds, the ‘Yuk, it’s a poo’ angle is dispersed and the focus can be on what scat can tell us. Amongst the laminated ID cards always available is one covering common scat of British woodlands. Once we’ve worked out what animal made it, we can start to look for other signs of its presence. Nibbled hazel nut shells may indicate a squirrel while footprints and perhaps a ‘couch’ or ‘lay’ may indicate where a deer has lain down to cud. Cud- now that’s whole further conversation; tell a three year old about ruminants and watch their eyes become as wide as saucers. So, from one bit of poo we’ve likely identified an animal that lives in our wood, perhaps worked out where it was going from its tracks and maybe found a place it’s rested or left a hair or tuft of its coat.

Our woods have a small population of roe deer. As these are in low numbers and thus do limited damage to the trees, they are left to do as they like. So far we’ve not seen one during forest school as we make a fair bit of noise- I suspect they’ve watched us from a safe distance though. Evidence of the deer is often spotted by the children: scat, prints and bones. None of the children has reached an age where they have had a fear of objects such as bones instilled in them so they pick them up, seeing them as discoveries to share with us all. With the youngest, new to the woods, it’s rare that they know that what they’ve found is a bone. More often such a find is reported as ‘I’ve found a strange stick.’ When the object is correctly identified the fascination is intense. What animal is it from? Is the animal dead? Where are the rest of its bones? These are some the questions asked. As you might imagine, this leads to some fascinating discussions about life cycles, death, anatomy, movement of all sorts of materials around the woodland floor and about how the find relates to themselves.
Picking up the dry bones of a long-dead deer is one thing, the discovery of a corpse is quite another. It seems a bit much to inform children not to touch if they find a dead animal in advance as for the most part this won’t happen. Experience has lessened the worry about this. There is recognition that the creature is dead and the call ‘I’ve found a dead [insert species here]!’ goes up. As with my young rowers, this will result in a group stampede for a good look at the find. I’ve found that good practice is to whip out a glove to lift the item, if it’s small enough, so that it can be shown to the circle of awed children. If it’s a bird, and it usually is, this is a wonderful opportunity to gently stretch out a wing to show the natural marvel of flight feathers which can be seen as very different to those on the breast and back. We look at adaptations of beaks and feet, colouring of feathers- so different close up to when seen from afar.

A degree of sensitivity is needed; the leaders can’t be certain of how any one family may choose to discuss death. Many young children will have not encountered it, even of a pet. If I’m asked, I focus on the life the creature has had and remind the group that woodland animals have an imperative to live, wild and free and that their life cycles are part of nature’s rhythm. A message to parents, sensitively worded may be appropriate. To date I’ve not had a child upset in anyway. Curiosity wins every time, even to point of very in depth discussion about decay with a couple of fascinated four year olds. Remains which have been lifted for closer examination are always replaced where they were found with the explanation that this is part of the life of the wood- nature will take care of it. Sure enough, when remembered some weeks later, there is little or nothing remaining at the find spot; nature has been tidying up.