Why I love working in a Middle School:

I am weaving through the
mass of kids in the 7th grade hall. They are
loud and rowdy and mostly
oblivious to everything around them. I have
one hand on the stair rail when I hear a
lone male voice behind me begin to sing
off key.

Six steps up the stairs and two more voices have
softly joined in. Before I reach the landing there is a
chorus below me singing out the
Taylor Swift song. Only in a small town
middle school will one witness, in the midst of
hormones and chaos, breakouts of joyous
spontaneous singing.

The sky is deep azure with a
few brushed cotton clouds. The contrast of
orange-peel leaves glowing against the
blue is striking. The air is warm with a crisp
breeze, smells faintly of smoke. There are people
out walking, walking their dog, pushing a carriage,
power walking.

Breathing the fresh air as if
it were the last of it. Like a dying man
enjoying his last meal, they
breathe life in as they crunch through the
dancing leaves.

Golden, coral and chartreuse leaves rain
down onto the grass sprinkling a perfect
circle under the Maple tree. I hear a faint sound of
teens laughing in the park nearby as they shoot baskets
in the sunshine.

Children scooping up mounds of leaves
into a pile. There is no rake in sight. Their intent is
not to clean up the clutter. Their
leave pile is small but so are they. Each
runs and jumps, laughing and falling, the leaves
flying and spreading. They scrape them together
and jump again.

Kevin and Andrew take to the woods
to explore. They return rosy cheeked and
smiling. Andrew proudly hands me an
amber sycamore leaf bigger than a
dinner plate. I leave it on the coffee table as a
centerpiece and a reminder to enjoy life now
before winter sets in and
steals life away.