"I'm going to come home right after school!" I vowed when I returned to the building, but two days in I am already seduced by the sun shining in through that window, as it has so many afternoons in the last 27 years, warming me as my fingers fly over keyboard and mouse, crafting the lessons that will become skills and knowledge in the days to come.
Even though my desk has been moved to allow for six feet between me and the tidy rows of desks a handful of students will occupy next week, those four walls have witnessed my entire career-- countless inhales and exhales and all the spaces in between. Being present in that place after a year of teaching remotely is a homecoming. The clock on the wall speeds ahead, and it's already later than I planned.
One day in the not too distant future, I will close the door on that room behind me for the last time. Another teacher will stand at the door to welcome the students, and maybe sigh with a little relief when they charge off to the rest of their day, leaving behind a quiet space to work and plan for the learning ahead.