On Being Open

 

Teacher in-service began last Monday. It was a week of on-line meetings, face-to-face discussions with a few colleagues, and a lot of room organization. I moved all of my teaching supplies to a new classroom and have it mostly set up. We've been informed about when to wear masks and when not to wear them. There are sanitizing stations in each classroom. The entire schedule has been altered. By Friday my head was swimming. 

We had arranged to go out on the boat on Saturday with a work colleague of Tim's who is thinking of getting into boating. I've met him once or twice, and his wife never. I didn't know if we would have anything in common and I didn't want to find out.  All I really wanted to do was stay home and putter. 

However, needs must and off we went, meeting M and C at the dock. Lovely people. I made some tea and coffee and we chatted as we chugged our way to Portland Island. Once there we set out on a hike across the island. 

Things have changed dramatically since our visit there just 3 weeks ago. The quality of light is softer, more diffused. Bright green leaves are fading to muted shades.

I noticed that C was stopping often to take photos. It turns out that she sees things much the same way that I do. We began pointing out interesting things along the way. What do the drying leaves in the above photo look like to you? C thought they resembled sleeping bats, and I thought chrysalises. 

How still the forest is, with a deep silence broken only by bird song, and our human movements and voices. As we walked, I felt my earlier irritation leave me as C and I often found ourselves stopping to photograph the same things - a shaft of light filtering through the trees, or a twisted leaf on a fir branch. 

We chatted about the intricacy of nature's patterns, and the beauty all around us. 

We shared stories of our past and by the end of the hike, I had made a new friend. I was once again humbled by the way that I was given this gift in spite of my earlier reluctance. I'm reminded of how God often surprises me with good things at most unexpected times. 

Queen Anne's Lace grows with wild abandon. The white umbrel blossoms are so pretty and delicate. As the blooms mature they close into tight bundles to protect the seeds inside. The closed flowers dry out and detach from the stem to blow about scattering seed for another year's blooms. 

This apple tree is amazing. Its trunk is completely hollow, yet there are branches thriving above, heavily laden with ripening apples. This hole in the trunk gives a view through the trees to the water beyond. 

Openness enables us to see things and experience things we might not otherwise have learned. This is a lesson I hope to take into this school year, so full of uncertainty and disruption. 

"There's just some magic in truth and honesty and openness."

Frank Ocean