First Flakes

This year I am in a new classroom.
I inherited it from my surrogate sister,
Diane Bernardo (may she Retire In Peace).
The room has large, unfogged windows,
enormous windows,
a wall of windows looking out
on a scene so lovely
that it is featured in local publicity brochures.
Across a little stream
is a curve of flowering crabapple trees
framed by enormous oaks.
Within walking distance
are crayfish and cattails,
forget-me-nots and touch-me-nots.
We sometimes interrupt the routines
of reading and writing and math
to appreciate the changing seasons creekside,
but more often we go to the windows.
We note the shadows are still frosty white
while the sunny areas are bright green.
We watch oak leaves shimmy and shake
and break free and float down.
We watch the snowflakes...
SNOWFLAKES!
WOW!
The first snowflakes prompt us
to grab coats
and hats
and gloves
and dash outside for a snowdance.
We welcome those first flakes
with our tongues
and our feet,
whirling to the Chieftain's Irish music.

Some days it's easy to be thankful.

S.