Let Me Tell You about Our Dirt Pile

For us, the best days are spent around a pile of dirt.
A shovel in one hand, bucket in the other.
Hours of peace for the soul.
When we leave the dirt pile, our troubles are gone.
Our minds are quiet, and our hearts are full.
Let me tell you about our dirt pile...

It may sound simple to some, but our family has found a solution for nearly everything life with young children brings... in a dirt pile; and it all started with a birthday party. When my daughter turned one, we had a birthday tea party at her grandparents’ farm. They had a patio they rarely used and were hoping to create something more engaging for the family in the backyard, so at 7 p.m. the night before the party, we all chipped in to pull up the old patio stones, and they dumped a pile of dirt. Yes, sandy dirt. That’s it. It was like a sandbox and seemed like a no-fail idea to have as an option for siblings of all ages to play. What I didn’t know was that it would change our experience as parents for the better. Yes — I’m still talking about that pile of dirt.

Children of all ages came the next morning, and roamed right past our elaborate snack assortment and straight to the dirt pile. For hours they played, with ages ranging from a few months old to nearly ten, and some had to be coaxed with great effort when it was time to leave. I expected it to be useful, but not nearly to the extent that it captured these childrens’ focus for hours without a quarrel. I was stunned, questioning for days what it was about the dirt pile that had cast a spell on this diverse group of children and held their attention for parents to have complete, uninterrupted conversations throughout the party.

I didn’t solve the mystery of the magic dirt, but my husband and I decided we needed to have one of our own. A couple weeks later, we dumped a load of dirt near the base of the driveway. I learned early from both experience and some wise early childhood authors that children want to play near the people they love, so we put it near our garage and my husband’s workshop, right on the lawn. It certainly wasn’t going to win us any landscaping awards but it absolutely became a staple for all three of our kids (two boys and a girl, ages 2-6). I can see it from the kitchen window, so it’s both practical for our outdoor projects based near the garage, and for when I’m tidying up indoors and the kids are playing outside. This isn’t possible for every property, but it works for our layout and family dynamics.
The amount of time our children spend in this dirt is staggering. It’s there to greet them each day when we arrive home from school, on weekends between outings, and even on the rainiest days when I bundle them up in their rain suits and send them out for some fresh air. I often find them digging canals, driving their trucks around in it to “build a foundation,” or just moving it around on the pile — and yes, sometimes piles of dirt are transported around the property. I don’t let this bother me. For the most part, it washes away on its own or becomes one with the grass or gardens they dumped it on. Sometimes there’s a bit of cleanup or a request from me for the dirt to be “excavated,” but it’s all in good fun and the dirt pile gives back so much more than it takes.

Somehow a dirt pile is more magical than regular sandboxes, which have captured my childrens’ attention for a while at our local parks and then they move on. Something about a pile of dirt is so sensory. It offers limitless opportunity for creativity and is one of the most reliable portals to that dimension of “deep play” our children can slip into where time is unknown. When they are dysregulated, overstimulated, or just plain tired, the dirt pile calms them, offering a place of simultaneous emptiness and fullness.

Despite the calls from advertisers for our resources to buy playsets and fancy climbing structures, there’s nothing we’ve spent money on for our family that has brought anywhere near the hours of engagement, development, and simple joy that this dirt has brought our family. Maybe it’s a metaphor, or maybe you need a little dirt in your life, too. But I hope you can step into the imagination of a child to find your “dirt pile,” and experience the gift of these portals into deep play.