Friday 8 May 2015

A world of growing things


A world of growing things
Slindon Primary School
May 2015
Stone Age abstract

I’ve spent 4 days in Slindon Primary School between March and May working on stories and writing. We have

wooly rhino
explored a world of growing things. We have wandered through the Stone Age. Mostly, we’ve been finding the Secret Stories of Slindon where, as it turns out, mermaid treasure has been hidden and where in the distant future a faulty spacenav crashlands an alien invasion force into the village. The school grounds gave us a lot of inspiration: they informed riddles and exercises in imagery. They offered settings for stories and ideas for characters.

This post will mostly be filled now with images and words from the artists and storytellers of Slindon




life in Stone Age Slindon

First set: "when you don't know what to say, look out of the window!"
Slindon aurochs

1. As warm as as summer’s day,
As blue as the bluest sky,
As sticky as a melting sweet,
As thin as a twig,
As clear as water,
As cold as the coldest winter’s day.


2. They met an old man as ugly as a rotting tree stump and boring as a fence but as sad as a lonely soldier standing in a field

3. His voice was as comforting as soft flower petals but his smile was a frozen ice spike sending chills down my spine

4. As sad a lonely flower
As sad as a child’s dying heart and soul
As vague as a smile from a cold, cold heart 
As sad a child’s grief

5. As cold as a winter storm,
As hot as a summer’s day,
As sharp as a tiger’s tooth,
As painful as a broken heart

we used natural and man-made objects to inspire us
Second set: riddles: we looked at plants and animals in or visiting the school garden. This gave us riddles and a collective poem but also just good sets of words!

Crow
I’m loud, I’m free,
A dancer is me,
Take my wings and I cannot fly,
But nothing is so selfish or fearsome as I
I stand tall but that isn’t all,
Straight black knives are my feathers
But you don’t know whether I’m clever.



Daffodil
Tall green swords guard
A tall green spear
That blows a golden trumpet
To cheerfully welcome the summer


 Pond
Green weeds float on dark, wind-rippled water, where the knee-deep pond hides frogs and frogspawn and possibly the jaw-snapping, bone-breaking last crocodile in Slindon

a world of growing things..
Recipe for a wildlife garden
Take a tophat full of flowers
And a sheet of the greenest green grass.
You might want some saplings,
20 saplings, any flavour, to your taste.

Throw in a handful of flies,
A sting of wasps,
A carpet of ants,
A rustle of leaves and
An ogre’s ear of spiders.

Shake out a summer wind and
A breeze full of butterflies,
A shower of blossom,
A storm of bees,
A pillow of moths,
A singing gust of robins and
A flight of birds

You will need a tornado of green leaves and
A tsunami of last year’s compost.

You will need a pond with
A welly-full of frogspawn and a
Trolley of pond-weed,
A bucket of ducks and
A beard of worms and
A bag of slow-worms
Stir it all up with a handful of life
And rain,
And sunshine.
And when the houseful of lumpy, bumpy hedgehogs arrive,
Serve your garden with wheelbarrows and goats,
And a chair of twisted tree trunks to rest in,
And enjoy that garden growing around you. 











many thanks to all the artists, storymakers and storytellers of Slindon!


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