The Wind in Our Hair

The first stanza in Christina Rossetti's poem "Who Has Seen the Wind" goes:

"Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through."

On Tuesday the wind blew the reeds in the bog at the arboretum as we sat nearby and read our favorite stories.

We walked and observed the large yellow leafs hanging from the trees and the clusters of brown ones fallen to the depths below.

We followed the path that led us to where the water falls and then wound our way back to where we started.

You never know what you'll spot as you take your learning outdoors.

 Which made it all the more fitting when trying to finish a book like this.

And lest you think it was all a picture-perfect morning, I should report that one child, who had a runny nose that morning that today has turned into a wheezing cough that sent us to the doctor who promptly sent us to the pharmacy for meds, whined incessantly almost the entire time. The other one screamed and cried the entire way home. Both of which made me wonder why on earth I ever leave the house.

Then I looked at our pictures and remembered the wind and the sun and the brief moments of feeling at home that morning in nature and realized days like that, as well as most of life, is about taking the good right along with the bad..