Listen! The Wind!

Several weeks ago I wrote the first two paragraphs of this blog but never published it for some reason I don't remember now.  School was not out yet and apparently we had a big windstorm going on.  I wrote:  "The wind is blowing outside my classroom window.  It's a sound we don't usually get here in Arizona. There were warnings last night, though.  And a memo to staff:  "High wind advisory today.  Please notify all of your students to be careful of falling branches and debris.  Thanks!"

"Listen!  The wind!  The soft roar outside my room takes me thousands of miles from here to a long lake in northwestern Maine:  Mooselookmeguntic, where my sister and her in-laws have a cabin right on the lake.  I've heard the wind there many a morning.  Some of my happiest memories are of time in that cabin, listening to the wind, drinking in the sunset, walking the road to the bridge, crossing the iced-over water to Toothaker Island."

When I was at the cabin last weekend, it was somewhat windy off and on, especially Friday evening, just after we arrived.  Sunset was just beginning and I took a few nice pictures (see previous entry).  I went inside to unpack and was surprised, when I looked outside a few minutes later.  The beautiful sunset was gone, the mountains across the lake obliterated.  There was a loud roar coming through the windows and rain was pouring from the sky!  Just that fast!

I went outside to grab a few pictures, but the wind was so strong and the rain driving so hard that I could only get two before I had to run for cover.    Now here's the strange part:  this rain and fog lasted only about 10 minutes.  Then, just as quickly as it came, the wind and rain died down, the fog lifted, the mountain returned to view, the sun came out and continued to set.  Except for the freshly-washed look, you would never know it had rained.

In Like a Lion

March sure came in like a lion this weekend!  But typical of New England, it was also on a roller coaster ride, taking us with it.  Friday, we had 60 degree, balmy weather.  All I needed outside was a light jacket.  Saturday was MOTS ("more of the same," in the words of Boston's award-winning legendary meteorologist who just retired on Thursday after 30+ forecasting the weather here).  In fact, it was feeling so much like spring that I indulged and bought 3 bunches of daffodills to brighten up my living room.

All well and good until sometime last evening.  It started with an e-mail from a parent asking if we would have school today.  I looked out the window.  Nothing.  I went on-line to check the weather and saw that Boston Public schools were already cancelled.  Within a couple of ours, our local superintendent had called to tell me we wouldn't have school today either.  So I sent out a flurry of e-mails and Facebook messages (actually, just put it in my status!) and made several phone calls to let everyone know they had the day off.

Then I settled in to see what would happen.  I can't tell you how many times school has been called off when it shouldn't have been, or it wasn't called off and should have been.  You never know when you do things ahead of time.  But when I looked out my window this morning (after sleeping in), I saw that we'd made the right call this time.

After shoveling out, I went to see if I could find some wildlife and ended up at my favorite nearby lake.  I thought I might see some ducks and geese, but there were only sea gulls huddled on the still ice-covered lake.  I'm not sure why the unprotected wind-swept lake is a better place to sleep than the warmer, less windy shore.  Perhaps it's safer is all.

Once again, I was intrigued by the silhouette of the dark leafless trees against the white of the frozen, snow-covered lake.  Contrast, patterns, and texture are interesting to me...

More beautiful flowering trees

Friday, before going home from school, I decided to drive over to Lake Quano- powitt to see what there was to see there. I got an eyeful, let me tell you! Dozens of amazingly beautiful flowering trees!

Most of these were in the two cemeteries bordering the lake, and it was drizzling slightly, so the contrasts were brighter than usual. I love this time of year!

Carpe Diem

Last week was so intense, that I have been drained of almost all thought ever since. It's been hard to do much, let alone write. After the exit report I went home and just sat for an hour. I went to bed early and couldn't even read, something rare, believe me.

Thursday, we had a candidate for next year flew in from New York and I had to take him out to eat (along with our vice principal). I didn't get home until after 10. Friday afternoon late, we interviewed him, and then the next day I took him with me to a teacher's retreat at the camp our school goes to at the beginning of each year.

The camp is at an altitude so that the ice on the lake has not melted yet, but the temperature was warm enough to cause a fog to rise off the ice. It was eerily beautiful. Unfortunately, we had to go right to the meeting, so I didn't get a picture of it. I regret being a "good teacher" now, because by the time we had free time to go check it out, the fog was gone.

One thing I'm learning... and trying to do more of... is that with photo- graphy, you have to go for it, take chances, seize the moment. If you wait until "a better time," you'll most likely miss it all together. Carpe diem. Take the opportunity when you have it. I'm working to do more of that so I have fewer missed photographic opportunities...

Photos of Camp Winnekeag in Ashburnham, MA

No Man is an Island

Today I taught another one of my favorite things to teach: John Donne's Meditation XVII. How well the lesson goes always depends on the students in the class. It is, after all, 17th century metaphysical introspection, not always a thing easily understood by 21st century teenagers. Today, it went well. Today, they got it. And today, when we were done exploring what John Donne had to say about our interconnectedness, I asked them to write their own Meditation XVII. I have yet to see the finished product, but I am eager to do so. I should have tried to write my own while they were writing, but I was reading and grading journals at the time so I could hand them back before the class ended. I will, in time, write and share my thoughts on the subject. For now, appreciate and enjoy Donne's famous words:

No man is an island, entire of itself. Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee.

Photos: Toothaker Island, Lake Mooselookmeguntic, Rangeley, ME

Between the Woods and Frozen Lake

I was sick much of the weekend, but when I had to go over to check on my sister's cats I took the opportunity to drive by the nearby lake and see what sunset looked like there. In a word, beautiful. I love how the gnarly trees look against the frozen lake and sunset in the distance.

I was charmed by the skaters. Reminded me that I used to skate on this very lake when I was a young girl. Reminded me that it's been awhile since I've been skating. Maybe even 20 years. I used to love it. Almost all my skating experience has been in such a setting. I learned to skate on a pond behind a monastary in Ohio. Then we moved here to MA and we continued our skating experience on this lake. Years later, on a stand-out night in my memory, I skated on a woodland pond under a full moon with a "rainbow" ring around it.

Reminded me of the skating scene in Little Women...Jo and Laurie skating...Amy trying to chase after them...falling in...Jo and Laurie saving her... Something romantic about such scenes I think =)

Anyway, the lake was frozen over. Surprised me. I hadn't expected that for some reason, although it's been bone-cold, so I don't know why not.