Yesterday we went to a fish hatchery with Zoe's preschool. It was a perfect spring afternoon for an outside adventure.
"I yite dis one!"(I like this one!) Vincent pointed, while Zoe explained to us about fish eggs in the gravel.
Checking out the little steelhead before the rest of the class arrived. We thought the electric anti-bird wire might be hot. It wasn't. Apparently it didn't work, hot or not. No self respecting great blue heron would let an annoying zap deter him from such a smorgasbord.
10,000 or so baby fish, fingerling size. No hands or other foreign objects in the water, as the bacteria on your skin might make the fish sick. Zoe and Vince understood this (Do we want the fish to get sick? Serious faces and head shaking no), but the water was irresistible to a few of the kids. Maybe the hot wire would work on them?
The grand finale, a feeding frenzy. Our guide provided a bucket of fish chow (itsy bitsy kibble), which the children flung by fistfuls into the troughs. The fish rose and thrashed and splashed, thrilling the children. The kids mobbed the guy with the feed bucket, the fish mobbed the feed, and all was chaos for the few short minutes the feed lasted.
There were lots of interesting things to look at, and it was great to be outside. I wish the guide had explained more, rather than just waiting for questions. He told us it was all a little much to explain to preschoolers, but he was underestimating their understanding. This became especially clear to me when they started asking about the life cycles of steelhead versus salmon.
I asked Vincent what his favorite part of the field trip was: Looking at jumping fish in the water. We throwed fish food into the water. Maddie and me was doing it.
And Zoe: Feeding the jumpy fish food. And the fish ladder.