Let's keep imagination at the heart of childhood

Recently, I’ve found myself pondering a question that feels slightly uncomfortable: Have we accidentally designed the imagination out of play?
Walking through many early years outdoor spaces, I often see beautifully organised provision and thoughtfully designed areas. However, while observing children in these carefully prepared places, I start to wonder if we are reducing the possibility for imaginative play.
Of course, structure matters. In early years outdoor play, structure has significant value in experiences that adults intentionally create. A den-building activity, a collaborative obstacle course, a bug hunt, or a sensory nature walk can support communication, confidence, physical development, language, and teamwork. However, in my experience, not all play serves the same purpose.
I’m Sarah Seaman, founder of The Muddy Puddle Teacher, and I spend much of my time helping educators to think differently about outdoor learning, child development, and play.

The three types of play

When supporting educators, I often talk about play as falling into three broad categories.
First, there is adult-led play. This is when adults introduce an activity and children participate within a framework. Think movement games, parachute activities, storytelling sessions, scavenger hunts, or collaborative outdoor challenges.
Adult-led experiences are valuable. They support turn-taking, listening, cooperation, confidence, and social communication.
Then there is adult-created play. This is the type of play many of us know well in early years settings.
Adults organise environments, prepare invitations to play, and provide resources: mud kitchens, role-play stations, climbing equipment, water play, sand play, and carefully planned provocations. Children may still direct their own experiences, but adults have already framed many of the possibilities. Thoughtfully prepared environments help children feel inspired, secure, and engaged.
But then there is a third kind of play – the kind I quietly worry we may be losing: pure play. Pure play is difficult to define because, quite honestly, it looks messy. It rarely photographs well and it doesn’t always produce an observable learning objective.
Pure play doesn't have a script or an adult agenda and happens when children are given complete freedom to explore and play themselves. This kind of play matters because it’s where children begin to practise flexible thinking.
Research into child development consistently highlights that open-ended play supports emotional regulation, executive functioning, language, creativity, problem-solving, and social negotiation. Outdoor environments are powerful places for this. Not because outdoors must replace structured learning, but because the great outdoors offers something different and exciting for children.

The day the crates became “everything”

I remember visiting a setting where staff felt frustrated that children seemed disengaged outdoors.
“We’ve spent so much money,” one educator sighed, while pointing to a £10,000 climbing frame train. The environment was beautifully resourced and carefully, intentionally designed.
Yet, the children didn’t engage in deep imaginative play, and after a day of consultation, the staff agreed to try a more stripped-back approach to outdoor play. This method involves simplifying.
Instead of filling the space with more equipment, the setting introduced a few crates, planks, tyres, fabric, natural materials and odd loose parts that, at first glance, looked unfinished and unimpressive. Some adults worried the children would become bored, but the opposite happened. The same materials became something different every day: one morning the crates were a rescue helicopter, by lunchtime, the planks had become a bridge over lava, and the next afternoon, the children had created a café, complete with negotiations over menu prices and surprisingly strong opinions about customer service. Play became deeper, longer and more collaborative. Language expanded, problem-solving emerged naturally, and adults found themselves stepping in less. Children no longer needed rescuing from boredom because the environment had stopped telling them what to think; instead, it gave them space to show adults what was possible.
Every time the children stepped outside, it was their world and the possibilities were endless. 

Five simple ways to invite more imagination outdoors

If this resonates, the good news is that you do not need to redesign your outdoor space tomorrow.
Often, the smallest shifts create the biggest changes.
1. Strip back one area
For instance, at the Sheffield Children’s Centre, we have worked on one area per year.  We started in pre-school.  We looked at what we had, what we don’t need anything more of, and what we can reuse. Try selling them or giving away the plastic parts you don’t need first. You can teach the children about this process as well and involve them in what is no longer needed or what we can recycle. 
2. Introduce loose parts
Crates, planks, tyres, rope, sticks, fabric, logs, cardboard tubes, pebbles, and natural materials often invite richer thinking than single-purpose resources.
3. Pause before stepping in
When children appear stuck, wait a moment longer. Imagination often arrives just after uncertainty.
4. Become a temporary play partner
Model possibilities, wonder aloud, then gently step back. Sometimes children simply need a bridge into deeper imaginative play before taking ownership themselves.
5. Trust boredom a little more
Some of the richest play begins moments after hearing, “There’s nothing to do.”

A final reflection

The goal is for some types of play to happen indoors and others to happen outdoors. Children benefit enormously from adult-led experiences and carefully prepared environments. But equally when we step back, children can step forward, and in that unguided and messy space, they can discover a world of play opportunities.