The World as Our Classroom: Learning the Forest Way

Building connections with nature 

While most of us engage with the world through our five senses, centuries  of living in increasingly urban settings have dimmed our sense perceptions.  For forest-dwelling humans, not being fully alive with all their senses could  cost them their lives; staying alert is a way of life for them. City dwellers  though have no such need, except while crossing a road on foot or when  driving a car. Whenever we find ourselves in the natural world, the sights  and sounds there awaken these dormant senses to engage with the world  differently. It is only an invitation and it is up to us to take it.  

There is also this curious factor of how knowledge shapes our  observation. Our minds seem to notice those things that they know about  already but fail to register things we don’t know about even if they are  right under our noses! For years, I had been puzzled by things that were  not part of my life during my early years spent in villages. For a person  who is now obsessed with birdwatching, I have no memory of seeing birds  as a child. How could I have not registered the presence of such colourful,  vibrant, sweet-sounding creatures? That’s how I realized that when one has  no knowledge of something, one often fails to perceive it.  

Humans have always had their own special connections with nature.  A favourite tree, a curve in the stream with its particular set of trees, a  sacred rock, a cave, a grove, a pasture for livestock, and so on. As we move  further away from nature, we lose these connections. We simultaneously  lose our nature vocabulary—a fact noticed by the nature writer Robert  Macfarlane. He has recorded many such losses in his book The Lost Words.  Thus, when city children are taken to a place which is still partly wild, they  experience fear and even revulsion. A beetle or insect, instead of igniting  their curiosity, just produces fear. What kind of world will they perceive and live in? As educators, it is most concerning that children are growing  up without such any connection to nature. However, this can be easily  addressed when they are still young. 

Strengthening connections and building layers 

The best age is when children are in Kindergarten. Between three-and-a half to four years, their connections with nature are alive. Their eagerness  to play with soil, and to see, smell, touch and hear everything is delightful  to see. And of course they love to put different things in their mouth to  taste them too! At this age, they are so curious. Every little stone, twig,  or fallen leaf on the path—objects which adults pay no attention to—is  examined and felt and experienced with a sense of wonder. Walking and  climbing in different terrains builds their motor skills. Very soon, they  are more agile, which then gradually leads to a greater ability to handle  challenging situations. We regularly see children who have not had this  exposure in early childhood, who are awkward in their movements and not  as comfortable in their own bodies. 

At the age of eight or nine, children begin to pay more attention to  living creatures, to recognise patterns and colours and identify specific  birds and butterflies. When they draw these and colour the drawings, the  details become clearer to them. They start noticing their finer features,  and soon this quality of observation becomes second nature to them. This  is the easiest way to initiate a deeper journey into nature. This ability to  identify specific butterflies and birds opens up the possibility of teaching  them about ecology. What specific plant(s) do the Blue Tiger butterflies  feed on? Which plants do they lay their eggs on—is it always the same kind  of plant, or a different one each time? What would the choice be based  on? As the children gradually build their knowledge base, new insights  arise and understanding comes alive. Suddenly, they see connections they  have not noticed previously, as for instance, the connection between the  Lime Swallowtail butterfly and plants of the Rutaceae (Lime) family. This  emerged from my students’ observations and not from a book.  

Possible issues that may emerge here is learning the names of each  species and understanding the limitations of naming. Often, when a  bird or tree is recognised and named, a child is satisfied and moves on;  observation seems to stop at that point. As teachers, we can help the  student not get caught in mere naming but to use the name they now  know to build further understanding. Learning especially takes on a new flavour and holds greater possibilities when students realise that they need  not depend only on secondary sources or books alone, and that each one  can generate our own information base which can be a learning source  for others too. Of course we can use other reliable sources to validate  our findings. 

Contributions to Citizen Science 

With Citizen Science growing in importance, students of any age can  make and record observations online helped by a teacher. Season Watch provides quizzes, clues and so on to help nature-lovers notice the seasonal  changes in trees that are commonly found in their neighbourhoods. eBird encourages them to notice birds and record their observations. They also  hold worldwide bird watching days, like the Great Backyard Bird Count.  Millions from across the world participate providing critical data on  wild bird numbers. When students participate in the eBird census, they  contribute valuable data for scientific and conservation purposes and this  is very empowering for them. For observations on flora and fauna and for  learning, iNaturalist is a great forum. The students, teachers and other  members of The Forest Way Trust, to which I belong, observe and record  every bird we find in our region on eBird. We have also made a record  of the trees and shrubs and a fair number of plants we have identified in  iNaturalist, and students have played an important part in the process.  This is an ongoing activity in which every new species that we come across  is added. We also record phenological changes like flowering, fruiting,  seeding, the sprouting of new leaves and leaf fall, through the year. If this  sort of data is collected over years, it helps botanists to identify natural  cycles as well as changes caused by climate change.  

Our Western Ghats tree learning project 

For students at Marudam Farm School, years of practicing observation  and building observational skills come to the fore in their last few years  in school, during our annual trip to the Gurukula Botanical Sanctuary  (GBS). Accompanied by our senior-most students, we teachers head to  the sanctuary for a three-week period. We have been going to the GBS  since our school’s inception in 2009. Over the years, different batches  of students have been able to observe and engage with birds, butterflies,  various other insects, reptiles and amphibians. 

In the beginning, we always felt a bit intimidated by the rainforest  trees. While we loved being in the forest, we realized we were quite ‘tree-blind’. We didn’t really know much about the forest. Then, during the  field trip we took five years ago, Saji and Suresh who are members of the  Green Phoenix team (an initiative of the GBS), generously invited us to  go on a learning journey with them to get to know the trees of the region.  They knew all about the trees, but they knew only the Malayalam, Paniya or Kurchia (regional languages) names—not the scientific ones—which we  learnt. And they also gave us some new ‘lenses’ with which to look at the  trees in the sanctuary.  

Our first new lens—tree bark 

The first obstacle to learning had been our inability to identify features  that were easily recognizable. The leaves, fruit, and flowers of the trees in  GBS are over a hundred feet above ground level. All we could see in front  of us were towering tree-trunks! Saji and Suresh told us that many species  could be recognised by closely observing the patterns on their bark. We  were rather incredulous, but also quite intrigued. But . As we were totally  unused to it, it took a bit of effort for us to imbibe this new learning  tool. Gradually, we all began to notice patterns. Surprised and amused, we  observed that the bark of certain trees peeled from above while some peeled  from below. We realised that these were distinct features of specific species.  Students also noticed for the first time that many trunks had lenticels  through which they breathed, and when the lenticels were prominent, they  too had distinct patterns.  

Slowly, the magic of the forest unfolded for us. This was truly thrilling!  In that first week, we learnt to identify at least ten distinct patterns.  We now had the names of several trees in Malayalam, and we could  identify an adult tree from its trunk though we often had no clue what  the leaves, fruit or flowers of the trees were like! Our next challenge was to  find the scientific name of the trees. We fell back on age-old resources— British botanical guides that were over a century old by J.S. Gamble and  T.F. Bourdillon. And then we also used more recent Indian publications by  S. G. Neginhal. None of these guides had photographs, but they did have  descriptions and the local names of the trees or plants in different South  Indian languages and dialects. Once we identified the local name of a tree,  we matched it with its scientific name from these books. We also checked  the Internet to see if the descriptions found in websites matched what little  observations we had made. If it did, we noted down all the information  that we could gather on the species. And so our own compendium on the trees of the Western Ghat tree compendium tentatively began to  take shape. 

A second new ‘lens’: branching patterns 

The next aspect that we began to pay attention to were the branching  patterns. For many trees, branches grow in distinct geometric patterns:  species like Knema, Myristica and Garcinia have branches which grow at  ninety degrees to the main trunk; others like Palaquim, Phoebe and some  Elaeocarpus have a unique curved pattern of branching. As we began to  internalise the bark and branch patterns, we realised that we were getting  to know the forest better. What were hitherto just tall columns to us began  to have identities. This knowledge facilitated our relationship with trees.  By this stage, we could identify around twenty species of trees. 

Thinking back, I recall a particular incident took place then that  became a tipping point. We had found a lone flower lying on the forest  floor. It had a beautiful distinct pattern. Our local teachers provided us  with its local name—eralam—but we did not find such a name in any of  the reference books we had. We were keen to find the scientific name of  the flower. All of us, teachers and students, sat together poring over all the  information we could lay our hands on in the library. For a whole day and  into the night, our search took different paths. Finally in the book Flowers  of Sahyadri by Shrikant Inghalkar, we found an illustration of the flower  and discovered that the tree it came from was Lophopetalum Wightianum.  This hundred-foot-tall tree grew near streams, and its seeds were light  enough to be dispersed by wind. This single-minded search convinced  our students that our tree identification journey was a truly enjoyable  pastime. We ended that first year by recording nearly forty trees. We  collated all we knew on each of these species through drawings, photos,  notes and references,  

Another new ‘lens’: identifying leaf venation patterns The following year began with us looking at leaves of saplings, which were  at eye level. We began to pay attention to aspects of each leaf—something  we had never done. The length of each leaf petiole, its appearance, and  leaf margins were studied. So was the arrangement of leaves on branches  to see whether it was opposite or alternate, simple or compound. We  then looked at the underside of the leaf to study its venation patterns.  Soon, totally new features that we had never noticed began to emerge— the presence (or sometimes the absence) of glands on the leaves or on the petiole. This step of in our learning journey was the most challenging one  so far, as there were so many similar patterns and so many fine differences  in venation to look for. 

One very interesting outcome of this exercise was the level playing  field that it created. Students and teachers were all learning something  new here and prior knowledge did not count for much. Some students  made phenomenal advances, leaving the rest of the group including the  teachers far behind. This gave those students a lot of confidence. Among  the students too, it brought out interesting variations. Amongst our  students, there were some who were intellectually able but struggled with  observational learning —grasping concepts easily but finding it difficult to  pick out specific features and identifying specimens. Another fascinating  aspect of being in a forest is to have a sense of direction. Some seemed  gifted with a natural sense of direction and orientation while others were  totally lost. Still others began to gradually build this skill. Often our guides  would stop and ask us to point out some known landmark. The responses  were sometimes hilarious and completely wrong! Incidentally, the girls left  most of the boys far behind while learning field botany. 

Other learnings 

The following year brought the best possible gift for us in our learning  exercise—time with India’s number one botanist, the young and brilliant  Dr. Navendu Page. We had never met anyone like him before. He seemed  to recognise almost every tree, shrub or plant or had the tools to help  identify them. Most importantly, he was more than ready to share his  knowledge with us and very patiently at that. Our forest walks then  changed: Saji and Suresh first helped us to identify trees, as before, and  provided us with their local names. We would then photograph those trees  and send the images to Navendu. By the time we returned to our camp, he  would have sent their scientific names to us! We now knew the local name  and scientific names of local trees and could begin our field observations.  

All this happened at a furious pace, and we were unable to process the  information that fast. We needed to take repeated walks down the same  routes and record all the new observations. This was what consolidated  our learning. We began to club our observations into sections. If it was a  trifoliate leaf, we knew it had to be either from a Melicope lunu-ankenda or  a Bischofia. If the leaf had a light green petiole, it was either of a Mastixia or a Persea. If it was a compound leaf, it had to be one of ten species. If compound leaves were oppositely arranged, then the specimen could  only be from one of two species. This sort of clubbing helped us narrow  down our choices.  

Further, we also learnt that trees produce the most fascinating  chemicals in the world, many of which we have still not identified. While  some that we have identified have great medicinal properties, some can  cause severe allergic reactions. Thus, plants from the Anacardiaceae family  produce a chemical called urushiol, which causes blisters such as those  we get around our mouth from eating mango. So, we knew mango trees  belong to this family, as do cashew trees. In the Western Ghats, there are  several other trees from this family, and some like two species of Holigarna and a Nothopegia can cause severe allergies. We learnt that it is important  to not touch any part of an unidentified plant or tree casually, for this  can have serious consequences. Of course, students or teachers who  had an allergic response to a particular tree learnt to identify that tree  very quickly!  

At 130 species and counting, our tree identification journey is still  running. We have covered most of the trees in GBS and many of the  shrubs as well, and are now looking to learn about lianas. Our students and  some of our teachers have together created a consolidated record of these,  including details and many photographs, and some drawings and sketches  too. The students with whom this journey began have now graduated, and  the subsequent batches are on their learning journeys now. Most of us  teachers have advanced in our learning, and our students therefore have  many more resource persons whose different styles of teaching can help  them approach this learning in different ways. 

In this project, we have come across a small number of students who  were not ready to take the plunge with tree identification and preferred to  observe birds instead. Of course, they have been given this freedom to do  so, but their projects brought alive the joy in learning to them as well. The  energy generated during these three weeks of our field trip every year spills  over to the rest of the year. There have been some heartbreaking discoveries  too. Once during a forest walk, we came across giant pits that had been  used during the period of the British empire to trap wild elephants. They  were a chilling reminder of the past for us all. Also, we discovered that  although some of the forest patches look untouched, much of the original  forest was at one time chopped for the growing the Ironwood tree—Mesua ferrea. It is no wonder that so many of those trees still grow here. We further  found out that what looks like an innocent trail through the forest now,  was once a regular route taken by armies that marched down it dragging  their cannons. Today though, the forest has recovered its former grandeur,  and those unpleasant memories are a part of history. This invited us to put  those events behind us too.  

Conclusion 

Our present chapter of tree learning and our earlier chapters of pursuing  birds, butterflies and other life forms have truly awakened our senses.  When we are in Wayanad, we feel a heightened sense of being alive. Each  minute of each day seems so vibrant. As we lie in our cozy beds in our  forest camp, we can hear the call of the different species of owls—the fish  owl, the wood owl and even the elusive Sri Lankan frogmouth. Most of  us are awake early to hear the dawn chorus which is one of the sweetest  sounds in any healthy forest. Amidst all this excitement, there is no talk  of boredom, or of missing TV serials and sports. None of the students  carries a phone. Life is so rich and we cannot wait to experience it to the  fullest. We feel this energy is carried through the year, even if not to the  same extent. We feel privileged and truly blessed for this great opportunity.  As a teacher, I wish that all young people had such opportunities.  


If facts are the seeds that later produce knowledge and wisdom,  then the emotions and the impressions of the senses are the fertile  soil in which the seeds must grow. 

— Rachel Carson, in A Sense of Wonder 

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