Even when the winter has been one of the mildest ever, spring delights. It was 72 degrees today, a new record. Although the winds were so fierce midday that we had to stay inside for recesses, by the time I left the building at 5:30 all was calm.
Earlier, my teammate and I stood chatting in my classroom about her daughter, a high school junior. My friend couldn’t be more proud of her daughter and excited for her future. I’ve had the gift of seeing this young woman through her mom’s eyes for more than ten years, years that included elementary school traumas, middle school dances, and her first serious boyfriend. As a teen I didn’t understand why my mom’s friends thought they knew me so well, why they wanted to be at my wedding, why they cried when my son was born; now I do.
As we stood there chatting, my friend saw the first bluebird of spring alight on the nest box outside my classroom window. We stood together at the window watching as this Mountain Bluebird, precisely the color of the Colorado sky, took in the view from atop the box. After he looked in all directions, he took time to check out the box’s interior. Neither my friend nor I could tear our eyes away. It has been nearly six months since we’ve seen a bluebird. We drank him in.
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