Footprints in the Forest

The thinking

1. Drawn as a field notebook. Pen-and-wash drawings on warm paper, some taped in a touch askew, handwritten notes in the margins and small footprints walking between the sections. The site looks like the notebook a child at Footprints keeps, so it feels like the woods before anyone has visited.
2. The questions families ask, answered first. Who Elle is and what she is qualified to do. How the days go in the rain, at nap time and at the toilet tent. Who collects at home time (only the grown-ups a family names, each with a password word agreed in advance), and who steps in if Elle is unwell: a second qualified leader the children already know. Every answer is warm and plain, and the certificates are there to see.
3. Two promises, written down. Footprints stays off social media altogether and grows by word of mouth, and every child's day is kept for their own family: the promise has a page of its own, dated and signed by Elle. The day's photographs go to the Den, a private place for each family that opens with the first sessions, with its rules published before a single picture is taken. Each parent sees their own child, and a photograph with friends in it reaches only their families, and only when every family has said yes.
4. Small delights that each do a job. The real forecast for the woods every day, with what it means for wellies and when it gets dark. A library card for every child, stamped in purple ink when a book goes home for the weekend and again when it comes back. Footprints that follow a finger across the page and fade like mud. And a funding checker that works out what help a family might get, with every answer staying on the page.