“Remember your walking buddies!” Faye calls over the rising noise.
The driver kills the engine and opens the bus door. Before exiting, Faye stands, reminding the kids of the rules.
“We’re at the park to learn and have fun, but safety comes first. Everyone understand?”
“Yes, Miss Rose!”
“Perfect. Let’s have an amazing trip.”
She gets out of the bus, and the kids spill out after her in their usual loud sort of order. I get off after the last one. The morning has warmed up, but the air is still crisp with the scent of the woods and river water.
A park ranger in a green uniform waits by the entrance of the visitor center that’s nestled against the hillside.
She smiles as we approach. “You must be the Harbor Point Elementary group. I’m Ranger Williams. I’ll be your guide for the hatchery tour.”
Faye shakes her hand. “Thank you for having us.”
“Our pleasure. Are we ready?”
The kids yell yes and buzz with anticipation as we follow our guide. We stop for a quick restroom break and then move down a paved path. It winds through the trees, descending toward the rushing river. Then the trail opens up, and the hatchery comes into view.
The spring pool is breathtaking.
Crystal clear water in the most surreal shade of pale turquoise, fed by springs. It’s surrounded by stone and metal railings, and beneath the surface, rainbow trout dart and swirl in hypnotic patterns.
All twenty-two kids crowd forward, pointing and exclaiming.
“These are rainbow trout,” Ranger Williams explains. “We raise them at the hatchery before we release them in cold-water streams and trout parks across Missouri. Who can tell me what trout eat?”
Hands shoot up. Faye points to a girl in the front. “Insects and smaller fish,” she answers confidently.
“Exactly! Who would like to feed them?”
All the kids scream.
Ranger Williams distributes small cups filled with pellets. The kids grab them eagerly, tossing the food into the water. The surface churns as dozens of trout surge upward, mouths gaping.
“Cool!” Tommy Peterson leans so far over the railing that I have to yank him back by his shirt.
“Easy, buddy. Let’s keep dry.”
Faye catches my eye from across the pool and smiles. She’s at the front of the group, while I’m manning the back, making sure no one wanders off or falls in.
The tour continues with Ranger Williams explaining the lifecycle, the conservation efforts, and the importance of clean water.
The kids hang on every word.
By the time we finish, it’s one. Faye gathers everyone, and we walk to the picnic area. She directs our group to the sheltered space, and the kids pull out packed lunches from their backpacks.
I sit next to Faye at the “adult” table.
“They’re having fun,” Faye says, looking around at the kids eating and chattering. “I’ll miss them next year. Great group, this bunch.”
“Because you taught them well.”
She laughs. “They’re good kids.”
“They are. And you’re incredible with them.” I take a bite of chicken sandwich, then add, “It’s amazing how they listen to you. How they respond.”
