Musings & Threads. Thoughts of Spring.
Thoughts of Spring and Other Things…
as Pandemic Working from Home Continues
After almost a full year of exclusively working from home, I must admit it no longer seems unusual to me. We humans can get used to anything, even pandemic madness it seems. I continue to be grateful I am fortunate to have a job and know that I will be able to eat today.
At first, I would stake out the kitchen table for my office each day. However, as the months have worn on, I have experimented with other rooms in the house. In the winter, I would choose naturally warmer rooms and sunnier ones. The warmer weather would be just the opposite. And in between, some different choices.
In one warm, sunny room just the other day, I glanced out the window and noticed this tremendous maple tree in my neighbor’s yard that had begun to bud. And then I realized, pandemic or no, spring was still going to come and then summer to follow, with warmer, sunnier, and longer days. It would all be alright once again!
When I was a kid, I would live for those days, and still do. To me, they will always embody happy thoughts, long hot days outside in the sunshine and fresh air, and freedom, a summer of endless possibilities to come before the daylight must again grow short and the cold summons us back inside until next year.
I think back to grammar school and English class where we would all take turns reading short stories from our schoolbook. The one I remember to this day so fondly was called The Sound of Summer Running. It was a story about a child who would get new sneakers every time summer rolled around, and he would feel so free in those sneakers, like he could fly. Well, that is how I remember the story anyway. The freedom was tangible to me and the association with summer has never left me.
I remember the frustration of English class at times. The teacher would have us read a story and then she would ask us what it meant, what was important about it, what did such and such symbolize. And there was one person who always raised their hand and always answered just what the teacher wanted to hear. And they would both go on about what it all meant. I wanted to ask, did you speak with the author and thus know exactly what the author’s intentions were?
Instead, I would just take my own little thoughts and feel they were inferior, as did probably every other kid in that class. I remember once I agreed with the teacher in what a story was trying to say, first time and probably only time. But before too long, I began to forge my own trail and not believe whatever someone was trying to sell me just because. And I realize today, that English class experience had the effect of fostering me to think on my own and not knuckle under to the latest of anything. Ah, these things we ponder having extra time on our hands during a pandemic!
Hmm? You want to know what happened to that kid in the class that the teacher gave all the airtime to? That kid went on to an Ivy League education and a Ph.D. and is now a professor at a very large and well-known university in the Midwest, teaching English and writing, among other things, books about books (of course!). I found the person online one evening and began to watch their presentation on some literary topic. I cannot remember it, as I did not see much of it before I fell asleep on it. Maybe that person can tell me what that says about me!
