After an unusually rainy and humid August, the morning air has just a hint of coolness about it – a promise of change. It has that end of summer smell where humidity finally gives in, reluctantly. The cone flowers are fading, allowing the black-eyed susans their time to shine, while the roses have one last hurrah. The bird houses have been vacated, the squirrels are on the lookout for treasures to store, the geese are on the move. Soon I will be able to mark time with the rhythm of the school buses.
Yesterday I ran into a former colleague and her two children while out running errands. They looked like summer – tanned from a final trip to the beach, dressed in shorts and T-shirts, relaxed. While the kids said they weren’t ready for school to start next week, I sensed a certain excitement about them. And I remembered…
…finding that just-right backpack and lunch box
…scouring magazines for new after-school treat recipes
…picking out the perfect outfit for the first day back
…mornings with a hint of chill in the air, waiting for the bus
…discovering the best new read aloud
…new schedules, activities, routines
…new pens and pencils and crayons
…awake at night, too excited to sleep
In the district where I spent most of my teaching career, teachers are reporting to school today. Maybe that’s why I’m up early. Maybe that’s why I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night. Maybe that’s why I’ll always think of myself as a teacher. Some things never change.
Last week I spent some time with my sisters-in-law cleaning out my in-laws’ house. They both passed away last year and it has been a job that has loomed over us for some time.

