I’ve had an interesting week, I must say. In researching a new academic reporting / transcript program for our school, I got to talk to a lovely person who is the registrar at Sidwell Friends School in DC (where Malia & Sasha Obama go). I’ve never had a more helpful conversation with anyone in the education business. She and I have similar duties and our schools are also similar, although theirs is twice the size. Her offer to be a go-to person if we chose the same system they use restored my faith in people and made me realize again that goes around comes around, and there is always reason to be kind to one another.
Last night was our school’s annual Trustees Dinner, a formal affair held at a very nice restaurant. The food was wonderful, and it’s just one of the ways that our trustees thank the faculty & staff for a job well done. Each year, new hires are asked to stand up at their seat and give a short introduction to themselves. The underlying theme this year was thankfulness for being able to teach. Let me rephrase that. Thankfulness for being able to teach without being a policeman in their classroom. For being able to teach children who are eager to learn. For having the opportunity to create their own lesson plans. One of our new hires ended up in tears at the end of her short speech.
It was a good evening.
I sat with our athletic director who is quite the sly fox. He waited until I had finished two glasses of wine and then asked me if I would come to school early this morning to print some certificates for him to take to the basketball league championship game later on. He’d forgotten to ask me to do them yesterday. And so I woke earlier than I would have liked and drove in the fog to our school. I didn’t mind at all, really. But I told him he owes me one. And when I came home, my husband told me excitedly that there was a hawk in the dogwood tree and could I please come take pictures.
I shot this through the glass in the breakfast nook window, while standing on a chair. The lower glass is covered with wrap to keep out the cold but the windows in the upper level are free of wrap (although kind of dirty, if I must say). This is my favorite image of the group. I love how the feathers are blowing in the wind.
I admire birds of prey and I’m not sentimental enough to cry over what they catch. Good grief - everybody’s got to eat and I am not going to kick myself for having bird feeders.
My husband told me a story of something that happened earlier this week with what he thinks is the same hawk. He said he was eating his lunch in the breakfast nook when suddenly, he saw a flash outside. It was the sharp-shinned hawk and it had perched in the dogwood tree just beyond the window. There happened to be a hairy woodpecker clinging to the suet feeder between the tree and the window but the hawk couldn’t see it because it was on the side that was hidden from the hawk. The woodpecker clung for a full half hour, being very very still until the hawk flew away.
Maybe you don’t find this sort of thing interesting. But I do.
My husband opened the side door for me, very quietly and slowly, so I could slip outside to get these last couple of shots. The ones above and below were not taken through glass.
The hawk saw me, but he didn’t care. George was also outside, sitting under the tree.
And then the hawk moved like lightning to swoop down on something that caught his eye. He missed his target, though, and continued his flight to the trees at the edge of the property.
And all was quiet. Which is what my day has been so far. Gray and quiet ~
Thanks for stopping by, my friends.