A breeze scattered a couple papers on my desk.
I looked up from my room supervisor’s manual and saw that a student must have opened the window during our in-room break during State Testing.
As I realigned my papers, it blew in again.
It wasn’t cold, but it it couldn’t be called warm either.
It had a hint to it. A secret it carried. Something it wanted to share, but didn’t know how.
If I closed my eyes and concentrated while letting it wash past me, I could almost touch it.
Warming earth.
Green stems just below the soil’s surface.
Buds waiting in branches.
I stood to roam the room and as I glanced to see that everyone was working on the correct test, and I heard the song of the robin.
A change of season.
Newness.
