Halloween 2008

Here is another poem (that makes two in a row!). This one has an accompanying video and was written by someone considerably more well-known (and more skilled) than me. Happy Halloween!

A Noiseless Patient Spider

By Walt Whitman 1819-1892

A noiseless patient spider,
I mark'd where on a little promontory it stood isolated,
Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament out of itself,
Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you O my soul where you stand,
Surrounded, detached, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing, seeking the spheres to
connect them,
Till the bridge you will need be form'd, till the ductile anchor hold,
Till the gossamer thread you fling catch somewhere, O my soul.

clin d'œil 7

Ode to a cold
by Bijou

My head is pounding.
My ears are clogged.
My throat is sore.
My mind is fogged.
My muscles ache.
My nose is stuffy.
My forehead is damp.
My eyes are puffy.
My chest is congested.
My feet are freezing.
My taste buds are weak.
My lungs are wheezing...
Achoo!
I can't stop sneezing.

Splendor in the leaves

Bo and I had the most lovely Saturday. One of the great things about life in the city is getting away from the city from time to time. We went for a hike and then zipped around and visited a few parks featuring waterfalls in the Lanaudière region of Quebec, about two hours from Montréal. The sky was crisp and blue. The temperature was around 50 degrees. The surroundings were beautiful, but breathing the fresh fall air was the best part!

The drive was gorgeous. Once we were off the island of Montréal, it was as if we were traveling in a tunnel of fall colors!

On the way up we saw this cool hollowed-out old tree that looked as if it had a zipper in it:

When we reached the top of the mountain, the trail was bordered on both sides by a crunchy carpet of lichens and mosses that manage to grow on the rocky crests.


We ate lunch at the top of the mountain as we looked out over the lake down below. As we headed down the other side of the mountain we were treated to many more views of the lake. I love birch trees!!!






Twenty-five years ago, Bo, with a crew of other young woodsy people, helped a pair of lumberjacks build this little log cabin. We were happy to find a group of five campers not only enjoying it, but also doing some needed cleaning.







After making our way back to the car, we traveled through a few tiny villages before visiting these waterfalls. The sun was rather low in the sky and my legs were like jello from the hike, but I enjoyed the falls nonetheless.




The summer that Bo worked on the cabin, he went swimming here once. It's strictly verboten these days.

Looking up at the sky...Looking down at the ground...

Last stop, another spectacular waterfall.

We were so happy all day long. Good thing we took advantage of this amazing day: there's snow in the forecast for tomorrow.

For William Ward

I got the news yesterday that my friend and former colleague, William Ward, succumbed on Sunday to his long bout with cancer. He was 61 years old. And even though it has been almost three years since I had the privilege of working side by side with Mr. Ward, I am greatly saddened by this loss.

William was perennially greeting someone. Not a soul could walk by without receiving a warm hello, a smile and a handshake (or if you were lucky, a hug). Every greeting was full of kindness and sincerity. His love and appreciation of the people around him overflowed. One could say it emanated from his very being.

William gave his entire adult life to two things: his family and the education of children and teachers. I knew William as a husband, father and grandfather, but mostly I knew William as a classroom teacher at Hawthorne Valley School, a Waldorf school in Ghent, NY. William taught children for nearly 28 years and taught future teachers for many of those years as well. But one could learn many lessons from William just in knowing him. As his colleague for two and a half years, his example reminded me about the importance of love and humor in the classroom. William's dedication to his group of students was tremendous. He showed me and those around him the true meaning of teaching as a calling, not just a job. William wasn't perfect and strove constantly to grow and improve at his vocation...this too was an example to others. He learned from his wealth of experiences and was open to sharing this wealth with those around him.

William was creative and joyful; be it during committee work, faculty meetings or in the day-to-day of teaching. He was quick to understand, quick to forgive and quick to laugh. He was incredibly reflective and able to see the bright side in any situation. William was, fortunately for future teachers and children, able to put a bit of his wisdom into writing. He published many plays for children as well as articles on different aspects of Waldorf pedagogy. He also recently wrote a book, Traveling Light, about his journey with cancer.

William touched so many lives. As I stood before my class today, I thought of William. It was wonderful to realize that lessons I learned from him have touched my current students as well. I send my love and sympathy to William's wife, my friend and former colleague, Andy; his family; and the Hawthorne Valley community in this time of sadness. My heart is with them as they celebrate the life of one of its pillars.