A child's place in nature's rhythm

The nature table is present in most of our homes in some form or another. A mantelpiece holding a fossil, feather and flower or a windowsill with carefully chosen stones piled up by a vase and candle. Teaching in a Steiner/Waldorf classroom I learned that it is a subtle tool reinforcing the rhythms of the year; adding to the richness of a child's life and deepening their self-esteem.
Rhythm is fundamental to our children’s development: the simple order of breakfast-lunch-tea provides comfort in so far as the child knows certain things to be absolutely true. They can relax into play, unworried about getting hungry because there is always a mid-afternoon snack. When the scope is opened wider and the rhythms of the week, then of the year, are added to create additional patterns of their own, the child gains not only a new security but the cognitive ability to layer truths.
These rhythms are an earlier part of the same mathematical development as music and handwork (sewing, weaving, knitting). That knitting or cross-stitch would support and strengthen the ability to learn maths skills like times tables seems logical. That learning to play an instrument stimulates our mental arithmetic is borne out by the metronome or the foot-tapper. Skipping with a jump-rope can allow the most fidgetty of children to have the mental space to play number games. But the rhythms of the year hold a child in an embrace as eternal as our own. The bitterest chill of Winter can be softened when a child truly understands that Spring is coming. Such lessons certainly continue to apply throughout life, and just as a grandparent may die, so an aunt may have a baby.
The nature table is a physical manifestation of these rhythms, a miniature world. By changing the coloured silks and figures seasonally, our place in the year is reinforced. So there should always be a fresh branch to remind us what the trees are doing outside, and animals who are particularly active that season (spring lambs, summer butterflies, autumn squirrels and winter robins are a first thought). I like to include fairies, gnomes and the like because human helpers bring the child into the scene. Now a child knows what to look for whenever they go out for a walk: nests or hatched eggs, returning swallows and geese, first shoots and sticky buds. Acting out the animals’ lives at this time (either with finger puppets or through ‘being’ the squirrel) helps develop empathy and give a richer texture to our children’s lives. Understanding and accepting that there are rhythms in nature (our heartbeat, phases of the moon, tides on the beach) and in the world all around us can help a child to become grounded and ready to learn. Something as simple as a quick walk outside to find a contribution for the nature table can calm a fractious child, because they are reassured by knowing that ‘Now is Autumn, I can look for a good leaf’.
So, too, we must learn gentleness towards the treasures which are being offered. If a child places their flower or stone on the nature table after choosing and bringing it, then others may lift it and appreciate it but must always put it back. The animals and fairies may be played with- that is what they are there for, but they live in their world on the nature table and that is where they should stay. In an atmosphere of respect, children are capable of sharing their greatest treasures. Just as we teach them to run with the wind, and hoot at the moon, we teach them to use calm voices in libraries, to touch gently in botanical gardens and to just look in art galleries.