If we have to have a school and a school has to have a name, thus I have named it: The School of Everywhere.
Perhaps our mascot can be the wind.
If we have to have a school and a school has to have a name, thus I have named it: The School of Everywhere.
Perhaps our mascot can be the wind.
Here we are again!
I know I’ve taken many, many photos at this spot, but this is the only one I can find:
Looking on the map, one might think that Raymond Road is a road one could drive
from one end to the other.
It isn’t.
Due to a gate at one end and a gate somewhere else in the middle,
the center of the road is able to accumulate a good amount of greenery.
It’s nice.
Looking to photograph a picturesque scene upon the road less traveled,
I ask my children to please run up and down the lane.
They do.
For a good explanation of how Newton’s cradle really works, watch this video:
We walk to the island. The children take turns pulling.
Akiva does not need to drink much water in winter: he eats the snowballs from his fleece mittens. When I notice his once-white chewing gum has become pink, I realize he has side-stepped the food-chain of microplastics consumption assumed in oceanic plastics pollution studies and gone directly to the source. I wonder how many thousands of plastic microfibers he has consumed on this walk. I feel helpless.
At the island, the tire swing, high above the river in summer, hangs low above the snow.
Iris steps onβ
βswing!
Akiva, shorter rounder and nearly as heavy, is more timid on the swing.
Iris pushes him gently.
He smiles bravely.
We went for a walk in the snowy woods.
We found a chained tree.
I took my old cameraβ of the sort that only takes old photosβ on a walk alone into the tall woods.
There I found a circle of children singing and old song and dancing in circles.
When I approached more closely, the children, the circle, and the old camera disappeared.
I found myself as an old woman, alone again, with a new camera and nothing more to photograph.