Blue Skies

Once my brother told me that in our area grass grows fastest in April and October. It seems counterintuitive-- what about those long, sunny, humid days of summer?-- but I believe him: he's mown a lot of grass in his life. I think that if I were grass, I'd like those clear, blue sky months, where the sun is warm, but not too hot, as much as I like them now, and I might just grow, grow, grow in appreciation, too.

We have had a cold spring this year, though, and it seems like the grass might just be getting its boost, nearly a month late. Only in the last week or so has it shown its true emerald luxury, and I worried about farmers and gardeners last night when I heard there may be frost.

I've noticed that there comes a point in every school year when conditions are perfect for both teaching and learning. It's usually after the first of the year, when all the excitement of the beginning of school and the fall and winter holidays has worn off, and the end of the school year is so distant that it may as well be non-existent. One day you realize that you and your students have created a nearly ideal learning community. You know and trust each other, and no one is going anywhere anytime soon, so you all take a deep breath and exhale at leisure, and then, like the grass, the kids bolt for the blue sky and the warm sun, because their roots are solidly planted in the familiar expectations and predictable routines that you have established together. For a few weeks, a couple of months, even, everything seems to effortlessly go as planned, and we all just learn, learn, learn, until reality intrudes, and end of the year jitters are brought on by any number of harbingers: the calendar, the first really hot day, state testing, whatever.

This year, like the grass, my students and I were a little later than usual in establishing our mojo, but we've got it going now. Today the weather was beautiful-- sunny and cool without a cloud in the sky. We had a modified schedule, so I took one of my classes outside for a half an hour before their state math exam, and the bond was there. In a pack of eighteen, we talked and joked our way around the trail that circles our campus. The kids ran, and did cartwheels, and climbed trees, and played tag, but stayed close to our group until it was time to go inside. Then, we used a stopwatch to time their bathroom and water breaks to see who could get back the quickest (no running in the halls-- hand washing mandatory-- top honors to fastest girl and fastest boy), before I sent them off to their testing groups.

We still have another four weeks of school, and this weather is predicted to hold for a few more days, but then it's supposed to turn hot and humid. Summer's coming.