Encountering Vivaldi's Four Seasons
unlocking stories with a classical music muse
Wondering Together: Part 3
It is August 2024, and we are enduring another roasting hot day in Texas, which I am more accustomed to this year than last summer. This year's gift is that instead of twenty-three straight days of 100+ temps, we are only on day eleven, with the barometer dropping into the blessed nineties tomorrow. With this great hope, I turn over Hunter, four years old, to the vintage magic of Reading Rainbow while Evelyn, age nine, is scooped into her bedroom. We are in the middle of a study of the human body, and today we nestle into her loft bed like two sailors in a crow's nest, alert and curious on the sea of knowledge presented.
We learn about the brain and its connections with the rest of the body. One of the exercises asks us to lie on the floor and listen to a classical musical playlist. We swipe past some Mozart after I find her eyelids heavy and her mouth gaping in a yawn. I pause before Vivaldi comes on. “It says here to grab our art supplies and draw pictures as we reflect on how the music makes us feel if it may tell us a story today.” Her eyes shake off sleep as she bounces up to procure colored pencils and a notebook.
The Four Seasons Concerto flows from my phone; its exciting cadences swirl above and through us. “You like this one?” I prompt her, and she places a finger on her lip. “Shhh, yes, I do! It’s telling me things already!” I see her pick up her colors with fervency and start to sketch. I flip open my notebook and decide to join her. The music draws me into a scene:
I see Hunter and Evelyn playing by the most magical stream, cupping the water in their hands, laughing, and picking flowers. I see delight radiating from them as I watch them from the shore. I put my book down and slip off my shoes and socks, sweaty from the summer’s day. I carefully edge into the stream, the water pooling at my ankles. I see years of my youth, imagining and pretending in my backyard, just as I pleased, and how precious it is to hold those memories and the ones being made! They are worth protecting.
The playlist ends, and I am pulled from my reverie. Evelyn sighs and sets her pencils down. “Shall we share?” I ask, and she nods. “You first, Mom.” I read to her and hold up my drawing, and she smiles. “I feel like I’m there!”
“Thank you,” I say. “Now yours.”
She scoots beside me and reads, “The music made me feel excited, energized, and like I wanted to dance and move! It also made me happy, as if I were the luckiest girl in the world, and I loved life so much.” Her page is scattered with kids smiling. Two play a rainbow piano, two are in a handstand and middle split leap, while another is softly sleeping, snuggled in a blanket, and at the bottom of the page, one smiles while tears run down her face.
I hug her close and tell her that her creation is wonderful. We talk about music a little more before we move on to math, and I leave the lesson thankful for this exploration. What music can we encounter next?
Have you listened to classical music in a while? What stories could it unlock for you?
Pssst! Hello, dear reader. I am slowly adding to Wondering Together, a series where I document some moments I wish to hold dear about life and learning alongside our children. Our family supports whichever education choice and style fits your family and is cheering you on. I hope you find a spark of wonder here that you may take into your day!
You might also enjoy:
5-7-5, where a family writes haikus together
Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash