I woke to the sound of rain this morning. It was still raining as I headed out on some errands. I was just thinking “Fine day for ducks” when I saw a line of ducks crossing the road in front of me. I braked and paused for them to go by.
It made me think of my third grade teacher reading Make Way for Ducklings. I loved the book and my teacher, too. The story and the faraway city of Boston were enchanting. My teacher was one of the special ones. She lived on a farm- her husband was an Indiana hog farmer. All the kids in the class were invited (in groups of 5-6 girls or boys) to come spend the night at the farm. Just riding in her big (and in my mind, fancy) car was an adventure. Slopping the hogs was a unique experience for us suburbanites- though some of us were only a generation away from farm life. The litter of kittens in the barn was the favorite for my group of girls.
When you are writing every day, it is “make way” for noticing little things and “make way” for remembering, too.