Tim sat on the couch staring out the window as he had done all week. In the early morning, at first the windows were covered with fog. Tim didn't mind he watched the condensation drip-drip-fade. As the fog cleared, he noticed there were crystals on the blades of grass that glimmered just below where he sat in the window like gemstones as the sun rose and shifted it’s position in the sky. As the dew dried yellow specs began to appear. Dandelions wished him a great day as one became a ton in the blink of an eye.
Tim turned his head as foot steps startled his silent gaze.
“Good Rising My Son!” Tim's mother announced in song to him.
“Good Morning Tim, do you want anything to eat before I go?" Tim's father asked.
“No thanks.” Tim whispered inaudibly turning his head back towards the window.
"Make sure this boy eats and does some math worksheets today, he needs to learn something!" Tim's father grumbled to his wife.
Tim couldn’t stand the idea of moving from the spot he was in. Turning his head for just that moment of greeting made something stir in his body. What had he missed? What was happening outside? What changed? He’d lost track of where his eyes had zoomed in on the grass, a spot he couldn’t understand why he was able to see clearly. See a bee buzzing off a bluebonnet as if nothing else existed in the world.
Tim didn’t move at all for the rest of the day. His eyes searched the sky for the birds that flew by. He wanted to see if he could recognize any particular species. Give them names and wish them safe travels as they flew great journeys he could only dream about, not fathom.
Tim grew frustrated with himself during this mission. The clouds kept distracting him. The cows kept singing to him and roadrunners appeared out of thin air causing the sudden movements his body experienced in between his stares. Moments passed and not a single bird’s name could be uttered.
Distracted, “They all look brown but shimmer colors beyond imagining”.
“What was that, Tim?” His mother caught his words as they slipped from his mouth, though he had not intended them for her.
Tim grew silent again. Not a peep came out of him for hours more. The clouds were vicious with their movement leaving Tim little time to form a sentence about each object character he’d witness forming high in the sky.
“Just one I’ll catch you!” Tim thought in his mind. He was trying to understand the shapes of the clouds, how he could see both the top and the bottom at the same time. How the sides had an outline with no line and colors appeared to shift in patterns he tried to define.
The day was done. Afternoon nearly over. Tim looked down. All but one yellow bud had gone. Like magic yellow turned white and seeds blew out of sight. Tim began to cry as he said a good bye to the dandelions that kept his company all day.
As one brave warm tear slid down Tim’s cheek, it took a tremendous leap to rest on his shirt where a portion of the day’s memories would sleep. That tear led the charge to dismiss all fear opening the flood gates for Tim’s sight to disappear.
From tears of joy and the loss of his friends, Tim could no longer hold his feelings in. He wanted a hug; someone to hold him near; but just then, his father appeared!
“You’re still sitting there?” His father’s ears flared. His skin turned red. His feet leaped into gear.
Tim didn’t care. He was in prime position for the sun’s last glare. The sky’s painting was about to begin. He wouldn’t miss it knowing the night would surely win.
“Tim get over here!” someone’s muffled voice blared!
here i want you to sense the danger he is in... his father dashing toward him... skin turning red... eyes and ears flaring... steam coming out of his collar... Tim is risking the harm of his dad's anger for this one moment. then it end with a foreshadow of his mother's protection
Tim’s senses dulled, his energy lulled.
His eyes clung to the sun, knowing darkness would have won.
but how?
Just then, a cloud stepped in. It tucked the sun in.
The sky’s wrestle had settled.
As Tim’s ears began to work again, another storm broke through—
His father was charging toward him. Skin flaring red. Steam rising from his collar. A pounding in every step. The air tightening around him.
...this line is up for discussion
Still, Tim did not move. For this one moment, this last flicker before the dark,
he risked the consequences of his father’s outburst.
That line alone carries: autonomy, risk, curiosity vs control, child vs system
“Tim I have been calling you! Get your ass up and get in your room!" Tim’s father was furious.
“How can this be it was a beautiful day filled chasing busy bees?” Said the tear that had settled on Tim's sleeve. The droplet trembled, recognizing the sharp vibrations of his father’s overcharged rage.
“Your bed has not been made. You never left that spot. You’ve eaten nothing. No work has been done. What are you good for? You lazy boy. Get yourself together. Stop playing coy.”
“What are you saying, John? Berating our son!"
Tim did not turn... but something in him shifted. His mother swooped over to cover and tuck him in.
“The boy’s useless, sitting there staring at the sun! You allow this while you sit home having fun! If you keep allowing this what will the boy become? Nothing, I tell you, in life he'll be a failure. Can’t you see he doesn’t apply himself to anything productive. I mean what work has he done?”
“He’s 8. And a lot. If you took the time to sit beside him. If you’d lower your internal voice; listen to his quiet murmurs; you’d hear all the discoveries he’s made over time recited throughout the day. Since noticing the flowers, when they opened shop for the bees to collect their pollen carrying loads on their knees, just before the birds came falling in taking they fill of bugs that look like pills.
Down one by one he counted them all. One hundred sixty seven, the 39th prime, not divisible by eleven!
He cried today I thought he was sad, he recognized and accepted the impermanence of life. I watched him laugh from surprise, joy and humor. He sang with the cows about the animals' rumors. His attention unbroken, focused on everything not missing, a beat he could name anything.
He spouted facts about the birds, Roadrunners the most. About their nests, and social habits what scares them the most. Endangered or not, no animal’s safe, from what humans can do if they get to close. As we record time so does nature, growing in its fervor, the record keepers, the crows, the ultimate drum major.
He reads with speed beyond your comprehension. Consumes facts beyond your tolerance for tension. Our son is no failure simply a boy burned out from having facts shoved down his throat and being blamed for circumstances we wrote.”
Tim’s father stopped dead in his pursuit. “Burnout you say, what is this about?”
“The state you too are in when ends don’t meet after hours on your feet, doing your best, giving your all and still you’re beat; facing defeat hustling in these streets so we can enjoy meat, wheat and sweets.” Tim’s mother planted a kiss on John’s cheek, landed one on Tim’s forehead, brushing his sleeve where his tears lied. She then walked away to retire stating a simple statement of “I’m tired.”
Reading recommendation: A woman’s guide to unbound power.
The Unschool Pages Hub is a reader-supported publication written by Danii Oliver the author of Unschool Discoveries. The first book series that showcases the stories and adventures of unschooling and worldschooling kids. A perspective not shared in libraries and bookstores as of the year 2026.
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