I love my job because where else to you get to hear snippets of conversation like the following?

First Grade Student: “My dog is named Porkslap.”

Teacher: “Pork Chop?”

Student: “No Porkslap.  He’s named after a beer.  My other dog is named Honey Wheat.”

Or this conversation between two Kindergarten boys:

Boy 1:  “I love you.  You are my best friend.”

Boy 2:  “You can’t love me.”

Boy 1: “Why not?”

Boy 2: “Because if you love someone then you have to marry them and I’m going to marry my mom.”

I love teaching because I get to work with kids and kids have an amazing ability to find and celebrate the wonderfulness of life.  Sparkly shoes that light up with each step make the owner’s eyes sparkle.  A knitted cap in the likeness of a tiger has the wearer grinning from ear to ear.  The energy created by this wonderfulness of life cannot be contained in their small bodies.  It begs expression as they twirl, hop and skip down the hallway.

Adults could learn a thing or two from these sprites who grace our lives.

The other morning I stepped out early to walk my dogs.  The sun had not yet risen, but the sky was beginning to lighten.  As dawn emerged, the birds began to wake.  With no other ambient noises, my ears were privy to an assortment of wild bird songs.  It being spring, some of the birds launched immediately into their mating calls.  The Barred Owl cried, “Who cooks for you?”  and the Wild Turkeys gobbled back and forth to one another in the hopes of finding love.  The deluge of calls continued as overhead I heard the Canada Geese honking their way north.  Then, as the sky brightened even further, the cheery tweets of the Chickadees and the whistle of the Cardinal was added to the chorus.  An occasional caw of a Common Crow punctuated the melody as did the drumbeat of the Piliated Woodpecker.  Serenaded thusly, I walked my dogs in a state of wonder, listening intently for each new voice.

Often our ears are so bombarded by a cacophony of noise, we miss the delightful delicate sounds of the woods and fields.  This spring I vow to spend more time listening.

To kick-start this with your own brood or group of students you might want to begin with the book, The Listening Walk by Paul Showers.

I’m also a huge fan of the children’s author Kevin Henkes.  This year he has written a new book entitled simply, Birds.  If you want to spur an interest in birds, this book is a great introduction encouraging the reader to incorporate several senses as well as the imagination.

I’m also going to celebrate by taking the time to bird watch.  My bird feeder has served the likes of Cardinals, Flickers, Blue birds, Nuthatches, Chickadees and Downy Woodpeckers.  Last year we had an Indigo Bunting and an Oriole stop by for a bite.  I hope they decide to come back again this year.  And I hope that you decide to take a moment and listen with your heart as well as your ears.

Today is another celebration of my own particular making.  I am celebrating the momentous occasion of my son leaving the nest.  This is a bittersweet moment of course.  I’m nostalgic for his first dance in a rainstorm, his first ride on a merry-go-round, his first day of Kindergarten and his first lost tooth.  But time marches on and better women than I have tried to stop it.  Instead, I stand back and look in awe at this marvelous creature who has become a person in his own right.

He is an adventurous, kind soul who is heading out on an expedition of his own.  He is hoping to hike the length of the Appalachian Trail.  I like to think that I had some part in this undertaking.  Ever since he was four months old I’ve been taking him on explorations in the woods.  At first he was carried in a backpack, then he was carried in my arms when his little legs grew tired, and now his own sturdy legs are carrying him far from home and somehow deeper into my heart.

Don’t get me wrong – we’ve gone through some turbulent times.  We’ve even weathered some hurricane force winds.  But I believe that those winds strengthened not only his wings, but his spirit and his resolve.

I am proud to have helped my son develop his strong wings and gain the courage to use them.

I don’t know whether or not this is an official holiday.  I only know that as a native New Englander a bright spot at the end of a long dreary winter is the first sign of spring.   Today I noticed the first robin of 2012.  Although it is gray and a cold mist is falling, chilling a body to the bone, this harbinger of spring completely improved my mood.

I immediately wanted to commemorate this momentous occasion.  But what to do?  I realize that the official spring date is still several weeks away, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel and perhaps I can hurry things along with a celebration.

Tulips!  This graceful flower never fails to inspire thoughts of warm weather and sunshine.  So I set off to the market to buy a bunch.  Whilst at the market I had thoughts of a springtime feast so I bought some fresh asparagus that will be later roasted with a bit of olive oil and salt and sprinkled with parmesan cheese.  Nothing says spring like the taste of asparagus.

It’s still too cold to open the windows and air out the humble abode, but that won’t stop me from doing a little (and I do mean little) spring cleaning.  I’ll clean out my clothes closet and bring some items to goodwill.  While there, I might find a little windowsill treasure that invites the hope of spring.

If you are a teacher or a parent of a young child you might like to try what I used to do with my students.  As spring drew near, I encouraged my students to be on the lookout for signs of spring.  For our share time, students either showed a drawing of their observation or told about what they had seen.  Needless to say, I read book upon book about this special season.

When my son was younger and inclined to go for long walks with me, we often went on a scavenger hunt of sorts, looking for indications of spring.  Those were delightful ramblings.  We were in no hurry to get to a particular destination.  We truly did stop to smell the earth warming, feel the sunshine on our faces, and hear the songs of the birds who had finally returned home from their winter respite.

I hope that you will be on the lookout during these early March days.  And since I no longer have an “official” classroom of my own I’d love to hear of your springtime discoveries and celebrations.