Something growing. What plants teach children about time.

My daughter planted radishes in March. Radishes take three weeks. She knows this now in the specific way that you know things you've waited for — embodied, certain, and slightly astonished that it was actually that long.

The radish is a good teacher for exactly the reasons it seems trivial. It takes three weeks, which is a long time for a child. It requires no skill. It requires only the act of planting, watering, and waiting — three times a day for twenty-one days. The waiting is the teaching.

Children who grow things learn something about time that is genuinely different from how time is experienced in other contexts. Screen time collapses the delay between action and result. The plant has none of that. The plant's timeline is entirely indifferent to the child's impatience. You water the radish. The radish does not grow faster because you watered it thoughtfully. It grows at radish speed. The waiting is the teaching. Children who grow things learn something about time that is genuinely different from how time is experienced in other contexts. Screen time collapses the delay between action and result. The plant's timeline is entirely indifferent to the child's impatience. She knows it in the way you know things you've waited for: embodied, certain, slightly astonished.