Watching Blue Herons Fly....

This past week I started back to school along with thousands of children through out the nation.  For me, this means I'm starting my fortieth year of teaching.  Yes, I started long ago in August of 1968.  On Monday we had the traditional Teacher workday...meetings with the Suprindentant, staff meetings, and "getting our rooms ready" for the influx of children the following day.  Tuesday, in my school, grades one through five start the year.  In the early morning as the buses arrive, the first graders are held on the bus till after the older children go into the school and then the kindergarten teachers meet their former students and walk them down to the cafetaria  and hand them over to their new teacher.  Such a bittersweet moment...on one hand I rejoice along with them that they are moving along on their journey of life; but on the other hand, it's difficult letting them go.  Will the new teacher know what makes Hannah "buckle down" and do her work, will she allow Matt to have "wait time" when she asks him a question, and will she know that Emily is shy and does not always answer but that she is taking it all in and eventually it will come out.  What people don't understand is the fact a kindergarten teacher spends 181 days with her little people.  At circle time on the rug, she is privileged to hear many stories about home from her little ones.  She is privy to some of the most intimate details.  Her students become "her children" and their stories, "her stories". 

After I "handed over" my students to their new teachers, I walked back to my classroom and got ready for Orientation Day.  This year our school system is introducing all day kindergarten.  On this first day I will meet my 22 students and their parents in three different sessions...7 students from 10-11 A.M., 8 students at 11:15 and 7 at 1:30.  I am nervous...the children are nervous and the parents are extremely nervous...especially the first time parents.  As soon as I see the anticipation on the faces of the young, I find my bearing and slip once more into my role as a magician.  A magician who creates an enviroment where the love of learning  can thrive.

By the end of Tuesday, I was exhausted and couldn't wait to go home and find some solitude out in the forest with Tuck.  I needed time to reflect on my day.  Tuck is a wonderful companion on these kind of days....he offers silent friendship and offers no opinions.  As we headed down the path, he was just happy to be free and ran out in front.



The forest is silent this late afternoon...only the murmur of the leaves fluttering in the breeze.


Looking up, I spy a squirrel's nest high in a tree.


Through the woods we follow the path to Muddy Pond and then over to the bogs at John's Pond.  Tuck knows the way and runs ahead and then comes walking back to me...silently wondering why I'm not as fast as he nor am I singing as I usually do when we go out for his
walk.



Down by the river that runs from John's Pond to the bogs, we see a blue heron take flight.


We continue on our walk and soon enough we are crossing the high meadow between the bogs of John's Pond and our own cranberry bogs.  (On the geomap you can see quite clearly our route.)  As we near our reservoir, I see the blue heron that makes this his residence from the middle of May to the end of October.  He is silently fishing for the frogs and fish beneath the water.  Hearing Tuck, he takes to the air....





And as he circles around my head, everything is clear in my mind.  The children in my class, like my own children, need to be free and find their wings.  One can keep them close for awhile...teach them the things they will need...but in the end, if you really love them, you need to let them fly.