Aprons scattered with paint. Laughing echoing off the walls. Young children counting worms in the vegetable plot barefoot. The preschool of your grandmother is not here. Enter Little Sprout Preschool in Walnut Creek myspanishvillage.info and soon you will find their early educational philosophy to be almost revolutionary.

Not only do teachers distribute worksheets here. Imagine them seated cross-legged, eye-level with a gaggle of laughing four-year-olds, trying to understand why shadows change size. “Why do you think that happens?” they will ask, as wild ideas like monster feet, moving suns, and magical shoes flood out. Every class is driven by curiosity.

Not normal either is the playground. Instead, there are enormous tires for rolling, tree trunks to leap, and a “mud pie cafe.” Yesterday, I saw a small chef show his friend exactly what oat-mud cookies are—just what dragons eat for breakfast. They were creating creativity, resilience, cooperation, not only playing.

There are not straight rows of desks here. Rather, there is a bustling painting station, a nook full of building blocks adjacent to a sunny reading tent, and even a mini-science lab for exploding volcanoes. “I wish my office was this fun,” one father said sarcastically. Few children object about the bell indicating playtime here; it is always playtime!

The way the teachers listen—actually listen—is even more amazing. Kiddo says cucumbers have a strong taste. The teacher passes over a magnifying glass instead of correcting and adds, “Let’s inspect.” One laugh at a time, wonder results in knowledge.

Not start on their “family days either.” For a morning parents turn storytellers, beekeepers, or planet explorers. Dad used blueberries and pancakes on Tuesday to illustrate gravity. More inquiries, more chuckles, and likely a stickier floor than usual followed from it.

Safety, of course, sticks to the ceiling like peanut butter. Little Sprout’s team, however, thinks children should wander a little, get their knees scraped, and climb high (under supervision, of course)—because adventure is a teacher as well.

If schools are kitchens, this one is constantly stirring fresh recipes—sometimes sticky, sometimes wild, always unforgettable. Children leave their classes humming with inquiries, dirty knees, and eyes shining with the delight of discovery. Is not learning supposed to feel like this?