Warm spring breezes, Sun beating down.
We travel in a caravan, down winding roads through the countryside.

We pass a school; poor children, trapped inside with their rules and bathroom passes, and cookie cutter education.

We arrive.
It is a beautiful day.
Moms sitting on blankets. No one asks each other, “How did your child do on that spelling test last Friday”? There is laughter and caring and love. A group of women who want the best possible education for their children.

Kids everywhere, splashing in the water, riding boats down the current, finding geodes and creepy crawlies and fish and crawdads.
Squeals of delight coming from all directions. One loses a shoe, one a boat, someone sees a snake. When they are tired they come to throw their cold bodies over mommy, when they are hungry they eat.

After lunch costumes are donned and all a sudden, princesses and knights and magicians and ninjas are everywhere. There is even a chicken and a horse! Imaginations abound and worlds are created. Is there anything more wonderful than children in costumes under a grove of trees?

We reluctantly load tired kids and gear into the car.
Did we turn left here or right?
I don’t remember seeing that silo? Did you see those goats before?
Finally arriving home.
What a magical day.
This is why I homeschool my child.