A Journey to 31 Days

“I just can’t learn a second language,” he said as he rubbed his hands through his hair and stared at the chromebook screen.  

“Yes, you can,”  I replied automatically, then added, “and I’m here to help you.  We just need to focus on one step at a time.”

Tonight I sit at the table with my son and feel distraught that he doesn’t embrace school, and learning, like I did in high school.  I fret over his future and the few choices he may have because of the decisions he is making now.  I look at his list of assignments and the late work that he needs to complete for multiple classes and I feel as overwhelmed as he does.

When we have author visits at school, I’m always fascinated by the authors that share that they really weren’t very good at school and that they didn’t do well.  And yet here they are, successful published authors, entertaining large schools of children and seemingly enjoying their careers.  These success stories permeate other books and articles that I read in all parts of my life.

I don’t predict that my son will be a successful children’s author or someone famous enough to have a book or article written about, or by, him, but the success stories give me hope.  They remind me that the journey is long and takes many paths.  That all is not lost for this young 15 year old with so much potential.

In high school, although I took an AP course load, I wasn’t a confident writer.  I don’t remember a lot of writing instruction except for grammar lessons, I just remember challenging writing assignment after challenging writing assignment.  This lack of confidence followed me into college and again although my course load was rigorous (and I majored in English!), I struggled with writing and writing confidence.  

Writing professionally has taught me so much about myself as a writer and myself as an instructor of writing. This writing challenge even more so.  I’ve pondered participating in the SOLC each year but the idea of starting a blog held me back:  What would I write about?  Do I really want people reading my writing?  Can I keep up with writing each day?

But journeys are long and there are many paths.  Here I am...I have a blog of my own and it has 31 posts!  I’m very proud, very grateful and a little more confident.  (*Fran & Joanne...although total strangers, you felt like my biggest cheerleaders with your daily responses, thank you so very much - it actually makes me a little teary!*)

My thoughts turn back to the task at hand. I remind my son to get focused on the article he’s reading and we tackle this STEM chemistry project together.  Japanese homework is next.

Moving Out

Our district gave us the day today to prep for the upcoming changes from full-time CDL to hybrid learning.  A big part of my prep for this change was moving out of my house and back into the classroom.  I’ve been looking forward to this move since CDL began, but like all change there is some friction as well.  Although never perfect, I developed a rhythm working in my home with my four children nearby.  We had moments of big frustration:  with the internet, with each other and with the situation.  But we also had moments of joy: laughing around the island at lunch, enjoying a warm drink in the morning with whoever was up, listening in on each other’s classes.

In many ways we were pioneers, trekking our way through the unknown CDL territory and figuring it out together.  Trials and tribulations, sure, but also joy at moving forward into new landscapes and understandings.  

I’ll be at school full-time from here on out.  Two of my children will be joining their school in a week and the other two will join school two weeks after that.  We’re all excited but definitely feeling the feels of the upcoming change.

But as true pioneers, we move forward, onward. (and yes, I'm going to get family pictures back up on the wall 😊).

Coyote Wisdom

We stared at each other across the grassy wetlands.  A gentleman passed behind me on the way into the wetlands area but the coyote’s eyes stayed on me.  A woman in a bright yellow vest passed in front of me at a brisk pace.  She didn’t look to see why I was stopped and staring.  The coyote’s eyes didn’t waver, neither did mine.  “Do coyotes attack?” I wondered.  “I probably shouldn't run in case that attracts its attention even more." It felt like we stood that way a long time.  Two beings looking at each other, wondering and thinking.  I slowly backed up, back towards the entrance to the trail but kept watching him.  The trail was quiet now and he unlocked his eyes, flicked his tail and walked away.  I scurried home.

 

Once home, I did what I always do when I come across an interesting part of the natural world.  I looked for hidden meaning...on google.  The first heading that came up when I searched 'coyote symbolism' said: 

“For the most part, the coyote symbolism is reminding you to laugh at yourself.  In

other words, things have been entirely too serious of late.  Therefore you simply need

to let loose and get on with it.”  

Haha, I love this as an ending to my spring break of college visits and big decisions.  Although the spirit animal posts went on to share more coyote wisdom, my takeaway is this:  it’s time to get back to school and giggle with my students!

Upside Down

  

I noticed that a huge bulge in the soil in one of my pots was still there.  All the other bulbs had emerged, so I was surprised to see that this one was still having trouble coming up.  I investigated and dug a bit.  To my surprise the bulb was fully emerged, only it was upside down.  The soil bulge was the flower trying to push the bulb out of the soil - an upside down process!  I gently pulled the whole thing out and there was a full hyacinth.  The leaves were yellow and the flower was colorless.  I decided to plant the bulb right side up and see what would happen. I made sure it had some extra room and watered it well, before our expected rainy spell this week. The flower hasn't been able to stand itself up yet, but color is emerging on the flower and the stem feels strong. I marvel at it each day... life finds a way. 

Out of habit, I look for the metaphor in this flower... sometimes our students, or ourselves, may seem (and be!) upside down, but growth is still happening. Some plants in my garden need a little redirection but some, such as this one, need a more serious intervention. An intervention grounded in curiosity, gentle hands and space to grow will support our students (and ourselves) to find their way and flourish.

R.I.P. Mrs Cleary

“Rest in peace, Beverly Clearly” was the first thing I saw when I opened Twitter this afternoon.  The accompanying article confirmed this legend’s passing and I felt all the feels over this news.  I quickly texted all my children then continued scrolling, reading the memories and thoughts shared.  I connected to every single one of them.  

Ramona a was a staple in my house growing up.  But reading them as an adult to my young children felt even more magical.  Laying in bed at night with my kids snuggled around we read the books in order, chapter by chapter.  Ramona became part of our family as we giggled about her timeless antics and adventures.  When we finished the series we visited the Ramona landmarks here in Portland, OR and took pictures with her statue. We still cheer when we are on that side of town and pass by Klickitat street. I loved the common conversation topic and everything that reading the Ramona series taught my children about reading and being a reader.  

While revisiting a beloved character with my children was a treat, even more enchanting was the realistic glimpse into family living the books offered.  As a new parent I had high expectations for myself and the family life I wanted my children to have.  But these expectations aren’t always met.  Mrs. Cleary and the Quimby family are so good at recognizing, displaying and honoring the imperfectness of family.  

Coincidently, this afternoon, before the news of Cleary’s passing reached us, my daughter had started to rewatch the movie Ramona and Beezus.  We marveled at this coincidence and after dinner we all sat down and watched it together.  We giggled and we cried, every single one of us.  We all related to the imperfectness and the love of the Quimby’s.  What a legacy.

Pajama Pants

There was only one forgotten item

on the trip

and it was mine.

Everyone had shoes and clothes 

chargers and earphones

and even toothbrushes.

But I forgot the comfort,

the refuge

after a long day of jeans.

The soft flannel,

The elastic waist,

The perfect fit.

So when we arrived home

and unpacked and ate dinner and did laundry and walked around the yard,

I put on my pajama pants

and sighed a sigh of happiness 

at the feeling of home.

The 'M' Trail

We had an open day ahead of us and movement was in order!  We headed for the large white ‘M’ painted on the side of the hill.  It is reminiscent of Table Rock in Boise, but different: a shorter, steeper trail switchbacking all the way up.  The kids hopped out of the car and made their way to the trailhead.  Charlie and I moved a little slower.  We didn’t exchange any words, but our looks at each other reflected everything we were thinking:  Will we make it to the top?  How sore will we be tomorrow?  Ugh, this looks hard!

When Charlie and I first met we enjoyed a lot of outdoor, active activities.  We hiked and walked and rowed.  We ran 5Ks and camped and skied.  We loved to take advantage of what the northwest has to offer.  As each child came along though, it seems we engaged in these activities less.  Sports schedules and social events fill our weekends. Less time, less energy, less outdoor fun. We lament this often.

As we started up the hill I thought about backpacking to a back country fire lookout with my dad.  We did this each summer growing up, and the hike never seemed to get easier. “There’s no rush, we have all day,” I remember him saying.  “Find a pace and put one step in front of the other, just keep going.  And take the switchbacks wide.”  I followed this old advice, got into a rhythm and moved myself up the mountain.

It wasn’t fast but I made it.  My three older kids were there to cheer me on and we in turn cheered on Charlie and Henry who were just a bit behind me.  We frolicked at the ‘M’, took pictures, played around, vowed to do more hiking.

The way down was easier, but not much quicker. Charlie and I chatted about our relief at making it to the top. We reminisced about our old active selves. We listened to Henry chatter.

I was thankful that those old hiking lessons came back to me: find a pace, one step in front of the other, no need to rush, take the switchbacks wide...just keep going. Good life lessons really.

A Tight Hug

“Stop moving, Henry”  I heard my older son say through gritted teeth for what felt like the zillionth time.  I knew his patience was getting short.  I also knew that whatever Henry was doing, it wasn’t intentional.

“Henry, come sit over here, Dad can take your spot,”  I said.  

Henry joined me and we watched the rest of the movie (a highlight of hotel staying - tv in bed!).  As we all turned out the lights and tried to settle into sleep, I could feel Henry continue to move.  He couldn’t go for more than a minute without a twitch or small movement.  It was annoying but clearly unintentional.

“Henry,” I said, “take some deep breaths, settle down your body.”  I could hear some deep breaths but the movements continued.  I lay there worrying about him.  I know he can’t help it.  I know being in a car for a couple of days doesn’t help.  I know he's really annoying to those around him. I worry about his forever struggle with ADHD.  As he gets older it doesn’t get easier.  It just gets different.  We have good days and good phases, but my worry is constant.

“Come here,” I said.  He rolled towards me and I grabbed him in a tight hug.  His breathing slowed a bit and it seemed like the movements were lessening.  I kept him in the hug.

“Does this help?” I asked. 

“I’m not sure,” he said.  “But I do always like hugs.” 

So I kept hugging him and he finally settled and he fell asleep. 

A Day In The Car

 A day in car with some stops along the way....  

Voices outside the car:

“I’m at the dining hall but am happy to meet you outside my dorm.  I can you show you around the campus before I have class. Then you can email me any questions you have.”

“Yes, no problem to call ahead, we’ll get making your pizza and we’ll see you when you arrive in town. I'll have a table set up for the six of you.”

“This huge starbucks order is no trouble, I’ll get started on it now.”

“Welcome to the hotel, enjoy some bottled water while you get checked in.”

Voice inside the car:

“Henry, please chew with your mouth closed.”

“How much longer ‘til we’re there?”

"You're on my pillow!"

“Who took my charging cord?”

“Stop doing that Henry, it’s annoying.”

“Are we there yet?”

“Scoot over, you’re in my space!”

It's a pretty typical day one. I'm excited to spend more time outside the car today.

Roadtrip

It’s been a long time since we’ve hit the road for a classic Parks family roadtrip.  We get excited to take these trips and we talk about them for years afterwards.  Our favorite family memories take place somewhere in the midwest or in a national park or even just in the suburban with some antics going on.  When retelling our stories and looking at pictures one might think that we are good at planning these trips and have good systems in place to get us all out the door.  One might think that we are thoughtful about our plans and put a lot of effort towards a quality family vacation.

But those thoughts are very wrong.  

We’re horrible at planning ahead.  We arrive at destinations and find out that one child has no shoes packed.  Or no shirts.  We don’t think twice about reserving hotel rooms while on the road when we know our timing.  We are often calling around a day or two ahead of leaving searching for dog boarding. And it's not uncommon for us to switch up routes midway through the trip. We aren't proud of this, in fact we're a little embarrassed by it. I think we just get overwhelmed with having to make so many decisions and committing to a time frame and reservations.  Spontaneity is our strength and honestly I think we are at our best in spontaneous moments.  But, it can make the 24 hours before we leave a little dicey.  

So, driving down the street today and heading out of town is a huge accomplishment: 

Our house is locked up.

All six of us are in the car, and everyone has shoes!

We found someone to watch Duke and he is delivered.

We have a sort-of plan for the week!

We have reservations for tonight and tomorrow night

    (and good ideas for the nights after)!

We are on the road!

Estate Sale

 

“I can’t watch this.  People are just walking out with his stuff...they didn’t even know him,” a woman said tearfully to her neighbor who was ahead of us in line.  

My daughter and I have a Saturday hobby.  When time allows. we enjoy going to estate sales.  She loves thrifting for clothes, I enjoy finding garden treasures.  It’s a hobby we picked up by accident when we stumbled onto a sale about a year ago.

Today, I listened to the woman in front of us and watched her walk away.  It reminded me of the estate sale across the street at our old house.  Mary and Erv were the best neighbors.  Although in their eighties, in many ways they were our best friends and they loved being surrogate grandparents to our children, who were tiny at the time.

When their health deteriorated and my husband's runs across the street to help weren't enough, they moved on to assisted care living. We were heartbroken.  I remember the day an estate sale was held at their house.  It was a beautiful spring-like day, not a cloud in the sky.  I was in one of my children’s rooms when a shadow fell over the window.  I looked to see what it was and was surprised to see a bald eagle swooping over our house, over Erv and Mary’s and out of sight.  I had never seen one in that neighborhood and haven’t seen one there since.

Watching out the window I noticed a sale being set up and strangers going in and out of the familiar house.  What was already heartbreaking was even more so, ‘people were just walking out with their stuff...they didn’t even know them’.  I felt sad, and then, I felt protective.  I ran to the sale and picked out 5 pieces that stood out in memories:  the blue pyrex cake pan that Mary always served us her chocolate cake in and 4 small blue glass (her favorite) decorative pieces. One for each of my children to have someday.

Today the weather was cold and dreary. The skies were overcast and drizzle was imminent. Watching the conversation in front of us made me reminiscent.  I understood the woman's sadness but also understood the neighbor whom she was talking to.  He was there to get a “jacket or something" to remember and feel close to his friend.

That's a Wrap!

And that’s a wrap.  My teaching time in this corner of the house has come to an end.  I’m excited to return to the school, to get up and move and to teach masked face to masked face, but I have to admit that I’m a little nostalgic for this time already.  I had no idea how zoom school was going to go with children that I didn’t know.  I was unsure about building a community through a screen and had to rethink all of my teaching ‘systems’ to do my best teaching.  But we made it and I learned a lot along the way. I learned...

• Children can learn, and I can teach, through a screen.  It’s not the same as in person, but it is possible.

• I’m capable of doing things I really don’t want to do.  There were many days that I just wanted to log off or throw my laptop out the window, but I didn’t.  We made it through every single day.

• There are some cool things that technology can do.

• There are perks to working at home!  Like slower mornings, changing my shirt or fixing my hair when I don’t like how it’s looking on the zoom screen, eating lunch with my own children.

• Young children are still funny, even through a screen.  Lost teeth, their parent’s birthdays, seeing a classmate at a park is all still really exciting.

• A classroom community can be built through a screen.  We can get to know one another, enjoy each other, care for each other, cheer each other on and laugh together.

Cereal

While on a walk this evening I talked to my dad...and my mom...and her mom too.  I filled them in on what was happening in our life.  I let them know how much I miss them.  I asked them for guidance.  I thought about their lives and how they got so much right, how they did so well despite hardships that came their way.  I reflected on my own life as my family enters another time of change: getting out of the house to hybrid school, sending my youngest to the middle school hallways for the first time and watching our oldest graduate high school in a matter of weeks.  So much is coming our way and the pace of life post-covid feels exciting and overwhelming.  It’s comforting to me to think of them walking alongside me, and us.

When I got home and decided to have a bowl of cereal.  I rarely eat cereal, like almost never, but for some reason it sounded good.  No one else was around, the kitchen was clean and quiet.  I poured a bowl and sat at the counter.  I leaned over to read the news while I ate and was suddenly struck by an image of my dad.  

My dad often came home for his lunch break. He ate a heaping bowl of cereal with sliced bananas while he read the newspaper. After this lunch he took a 30 minute power nap before returning to his office to see his afternoon patients.  He continued this lunch routine into retirement.  When visiting a couple of years ago, I walked into the kitchen and saw him sitting in the sunroom, hunched over his bowl of cereal, reading.  I looked at him and wanted to remember it, so I snapped a picture.  

Tonight after my cereal I went looking for the picture and am so glad that I found it (lots of scrolling!).  I studied the picture and remembered.  I wonder maybe he had similar thoughts about his life.  Maybe he had similar conversations with his parents and with my mom.  Maybe I’m more like him than I think.

Saved by Zoom

 I wasn’t as early to open up zoom class as usual, so my waiting room was full when I logged on.  I let them all in and my screen filled up with all shades of green and lots of chatter about leprechaun visits.  

“Oh!”  I thought “it’s St Patrick’s Day!” I have fond memories of St Patrick’s Day when I was a recent college graduate living in Chicago.  What fun we had celebrating the festive nature of the holiday.  But as I’ve gotten older, it doesn’t stand out in the line-up of holiday celebrations at our house (yes, I do have some parent guilt over that).  The holiday usually sneaks up on me, as it did today.

In my zoom, I listened to leprechaun stories of green milk, messes left around the house, leprechaun prints in the bathroom and even signs of green pee in the toilet!  And then of course my students called me out:  

“Where is your green Mrs Parks!?”  they asked. 

“Oh!”  I said, “Just a minute!”

I ran to my closet, scanned the options - only one sighting of green!  I slipped on my green striped sweater and ran back to the screen. I got smiles and thumbs up and the leprechaun chatter continued.  Another teacher moment saved by a perk of zoom school - my closet just steps away!

Scraps

 

He will sit for hours, waiting patiently.  He doesn’t make a sound and doesn’t fuss.  He watches as we come in and out of the room, and still, he doesn’t waver.  At last I give in, I give him a piece, or the plate to lick.  He enjoys whatever he gets, no amount too small.  I pick up the plate and put it in the sink and he wanders off to bed.  I sigh.  I wish for his patience and resolve but even more, I wish for his contentment.

Zoom Trickery

It was almost the end of the school day and I was going from breakout room to breakout room to meet with readers, individually and in small groups.  I opened the tab to move into breakout room 6 and was confused when I saw Charlie’s name indicating that he was a zoom host:  “Charlie (host)”  That’s strange I thought. I wondered if I had confused something when I was recently in the depths of zoom settings to set up a guest teacher with access to my zoom controls.  'Does Charlie have the same zoom superpowers that I have,' I wondered.  I made a note to look into it after school, but didn’t.

The next morning when students were entering my screen Charlie’s name was the same:  Charlie (host).

“Charlie,” I said, “I’m not sure why your name has ‘host’ next to it.  I think I should check some settings. Maybe you have zoom superpowers like I do!?”

Charlie looked at me and smiled.  He unmuted.  

“I was tricking you Mrs Parks!” he beamed.  “I renamed myself with ‘host’!”

What a funny trick!  I explained to the class what had happened and how I was genuinely tricked and genuinely surprised that a student would know to make this trick!  We giggled at Charlie's trickery and how I believed him. Once the kids heard this joke, I suddenly had twenty-some ‘hosts’ in the class ready to help me lead zoom! :)

Aunt Judy

My phone ding-ed during the morning meeting.  I glanced down and saw a message from my mom.  Her oldest sister passed away.  Aunt Judy was not my closest aunt and technically was a step-aunt, my step-mom’s sister.  It wasn't that long ago that I saw her at my dad's service. Pushing her walker and cheerfully greeting us, sharing how much she loved my dad. When my dad died, the cards and calls I found most comforting were the ones that contained memories.

I remember when I was young, maybe 10, I was visiting family in Pocatello.  My step-sister and I were at Nana’s with cousins.  It was a hot day and we went out to the front yard for a water fight.  We didn’t have many water tools, so cups were our main method of getting each other wet.  My step-sister and I were on opposing teams (or maybe we were all opposing each other?) when she came to dump a cup of water over the top of my head.  I looked up to see what was coming and hopefully move out of the way.  My timing was off and I think my sister’s aim was off - the cup came crashing down into my eyebrow.  It hurt!  I grabbed my eyebrow and bent over.  Everyone gathered around and let me know I was bleeding.  Yes, my hand was covered in blood.  Enter Aunt Judy.  She showed up from the house, did I even realize she was there?  Her nurse's eyes looked at me and confirmed that I needed to go to the hospital and get stitches (no urgent care back in those days).  Going into the exam room felt very dramatic to my young mind, I remember it as an operating room but more likely it was just an exam room.  And who was by my side...Aunt Judy.  She held my hand, offered words of encouragement and comfort.  I felt cared for and less scared knowing that she was there with me.  Although I was in a strange town, in a strange place, with relatives I didn't know that well, I knew that I wasn’t alone.  Her words and her touch are what I remember most of Aunt Judy. She was kindness & comfort.

Spring Growth

The sun has been shining this past week which is so nice for our rainy corner of the world.  The ground is drying just enough that we could run the lawn mower over it to trim the winter’s growth.  The flower beds offer hope as green shoots are poking up with promise of some much needed color.  

There is other growth happening too.  My oldest texts from her weekend job to tell me her day is going well and that she completed her quarterly self-reflection and goal setting meeting with her boss.  She got a reply from the last of the colleges that she applied to. My son helps me load yard debris into the bins and went off for his first ‘real’ (salon) haircut.  He's no longer resisting the idea of college someday. My next daughter scowled at me as we made our way through the department store looking for a hybrid first day of school outfit.  She was cheered once she was back on her phone with her friends but apologized for the sullen shopping trip. And my youngest sketched out his entry for the yearbook art contest, happy to be finding opportunities to participate in school.

Spring is on the way and with it growth.

The Palace of Zoom

Aaaaaah, Friday!  I scanned through my emails once last time and made sure that zoom was closed down for the day.  As I was about to close my laptop, I remembered that students had used padlet to share connections they were making with the books they are reading.  Although it’s not quite the same as paper, I’ve been impressed with their six-year-old ability to use padlet to share their thinking.  I quickly scrolled through the entries and made some mental notes about whom I should touch base with during reading conferences on Monday and Tuesday.  Then, towards the bottom of the screen was a purple note:

It made me laugh and then I realized that today is the one year mark since we left school for what we thought was an extended spring break.  One year.  Amazing.  Similar to Vivi, I feel trapped in zoom, but I love her imagery better: we’re all a bunch of princes and princesses stuck in a palace called Zoom!

Finding Topics

 My daughter sat down with me at the kitchen table after dinner.  My work materials were spread out and I was deep into work on my laptop.

“This next writing unit is going to be harder for me I think,” she said.  She had just flown through the narrative unit in her Writing 121 course and grew some much needed confidence after a series of high level math and science courses.  

“Ok,” I said, “what unit is it?”

She went on to explain that she will be writing an informative piece with narrative components.  Her teacher had led them through a brainstorming activity and put them into breakout groups to share their brainstorms.  

“When everyone shared their ideas, I felt unsure.  They were sharing their thinking about large scale topics like ‘women in stem’ and ‘sports and mental health’.  I realized that my brainstorm ideas were really simple, I’m not sure that I’ll have enough to write about.”

We talked about ideas that she cares about and knows more about than she realizes.  We reminisced about some of the inquiry work she did in elementary school and which topics resonated with her.  By the end of our conversation we had added to her brainstorm and she was ready for the next day's writing activities.

Similar to my daughter, finding writing ideas has been the biggest hurdle during these last twelve days of this writing challenge.  But true to the challenge’s purpose, it is helping me grow strategies and to see story in my everyday life. Writing alongside my high school senior daughter is also giving me points of inspiration and reflection as a writer and as a teacher of writing. I think of the teacher character in Ralph Writes a Story telling Ralph and his classmates that "stories are everywhere". I'm learning to live this and will be better able to support and instruct my very young students.

Whispers

I’ve learned in zoom school that if the independent work task is something students need to record on Seesaw, then I need to be quiet.  Students have shared that they record my voice, not theirs.  We’ve gotten a laugh at my expense about talking too much and so I've worked on giving them quiet minutes when needed.   That said, I also want to be able to answer questions and help students during this independent work time.  We of course use breakout rooms but sometimes I feel that I need to stay with the whole class, so on occasion, I’ve taken to whispering.  Through zoom.

“Mrs Parks,” Peter whispered through the screen.

“Yes,” I answered in a whisper.

“Should I take a picture of my lesson?” 

“Yes,” I answered, both of us still whispering, “add a page at the end for the picture.”

“Ok, I’ll do that,” he whispered back, clearly enjoying having a conversation in whispers.

Peter gave me a thumbs up as Sam’s thumbnail lit up.

“Mrs. Parks,” whispered Sam.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Ummmm, I can hear you guys...,” he whispered informatively.

I don’t know if this sounds as funny as it was - the whole class, including Sam, giggled.  We weren’t whispering to tell a secret and of course he and the others could hear us.  It was so sweet.

An Afternoon Walk

I walked in the afternoon today, instead of the evening.  I tried to take a route that would put me in nature more than houses, in quiet rather than amongst traffic.  The option that is closest to my house isn’t perfect, sometimes the afternoon pedestrian traffic is as congested as the cars, but I set out nonetheless.  The route was pleasant.  Roads were easy to cross and the other walkers were few and far between today.  My choice to wear a hat was a good one - it was chillier outside than I thought.  

Along the way I noticed: 

various pine cones growing down, and up, on trees, some were crushed on the sidewalk 

so many daffodil varieties:  bright yellows to some so light they are almost white 

playful bird songs all around

brightly painted rocks with a cardboard sign:  

“Enjoy or add to the rocks, but please leave them.  Returns welcome.  Many thanks.”

sleeping mallards, their bills tucked into their wings

a hawk perched on a telephone pole, flying off everytime I get close

three young boys walking and talking happily

a patch of snow that I can’t believe is left from Valentine’s Day

a new stretch of trail, smooth and dark

a sign that told me I was entering a farming area and there might be dust

three young boys walking and talking happily on their return route

When I came to the end of the path, my mind was clear. A lot of time and distance had passed.  I turned around to head home.  I looked at the route that I came on, it looked long.  I looked at my watch, thought about dinner and called my daughter to come pick me up.