Window-Watching Weather

Tuesday, the big oak tree outside my classroom wore a brilliant rust hairdo. Smooth, heavy clouds blew far past in the distance, like a long blanket being dragged across the horizon. Wind brushed hard against the windows, and leaves shimmied, clinging to the oak. Now and then, we had to stop our lesson and watch. But just as we would go back to work, the wind would whip up again, and the stubborn leaves would tremble.

No kid can ignore exciting weather out a classroom window -- the shouts and oohs during a windstorm, or after thunder, or as fat rain drops slap the glass, or heaven forbid, when snow starts to fall, bring me back to my own elementary school years, when weather out the window brought a glorious distraction from a long, monotonous day. My teachers always said something like, “You’ve seen snow before. Let’s get back to work.”

But you should have seen the brilliant leaves shimmy on Tuesday! You should have heard the wind! It was impossible to ignore. So finally, I said, “Let’s just sit here and watch for a minute.” The classroom was the stillest it's ever been, as we took in our wild-haired tree.

We did that on Tuesday. We observed.