(286) Sprinklers

I was watching the sprinklers yesterday morning, thinking about how the water comes from the lake, sprays out onto the grass, and then goes back to the lake.

Cycles.

Some of it evaporates and makes the clouds in the sky. Rain falls.

Cycles.

I’m in October of the school year, feeling a certain exhaustion, inexplicable inadequacy, and frustration. Every time I think I’m beyond it, that I have figured out a way past it, I fall back into my doubt.

Cycles.

I have to keep reminding myself this happens every year. Every year teachers have to learn how to teach their students again. The students change. There is no way around this.

Cycles.

It’ s a New Moon today — as the moon has its cycles — and I am taking a fresh start. I’ll meet with my writing group tonight.  We will shore each other up, as we do every month. We will help each other regain footing.

The cycle of our monthly meetings is one I embrace and treasure.

Cycles.

Young Friends in Sprinkler
Young Friends in Sprinkler
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