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Bed of grass

The kids marched off to school this morning.  They chose their own outfits, one actually bought hers with her own money, they lead the way and away they went.  My role in getting them ready was minimal this time.

When I got home, I felt strangely sad. I have never noticed this sadness on the first day of school before.  Over the summer, I had them in my grasp, we floated and dived together and roasted marshmallows and made crazy plans.  They got bored, found ways not to be bored and slid back into boredom again. The ups and downs of their lives over the summer were directly observable by me, but they can't live in there forever. Now they have left the jar, they have been released into territory I can't always know or understand.

They'll return at the end of the day full of stories and information from that tall grass over there.

Comments

  1. excellent metaphor! and i almost always have that strange melancholy on the first day, and i've even still got one at home... a shift, a change, a necessary acknowledgement of 'something'.. :)

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