Settling In

The nights are getting cooler and there's a fire-tip on top of the oak tree down the road. It's quieter and darker. I find myself gathering in, dreaming of winter nights with a persistent wind knocking at the window. My life is tightly scheduled again with decisions to be made almost daily. When will I see friends? How many hours can I devote to my caretaking role and still balance all my teaching? How will I find the time to finish two manuscripts and submit my work to journals? When I am discussing poetry or writing, the world drops away and I find myself immersed in words. I know that magic captures some of my students--I can see it because they get very quiet. I remind myself that the younger students will someday remember this. There is a synergy that happens in a classroom. When I leave, I take that energy with me, remembering that teaching is like learning which is like observing which is a vital part of writing. I try to stay in the moment, honoring all the voices in my many classrooms. I am lucky enough to work with all ages which keeps me from getting tainted or too fixed in a genre or attitude. Like life, my interactions continually change. There is always something growing, even in winter.