SOLSC '25 Day Three: The drizzle didn't do

 

I am participating in The Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life Story Challenge, writing every day during the month of March.  My theme this year is "Outdoors".

I put on the wrong jacket this morning.  There was a light mist falling as I walked to my car, so I turned around, unlocked the front door, and traded fleece for my raincoat.  Murphy's Law, you know.

If you know me, you know I work in what I affectionately call "The Bomb Shelter".  My library lies at the heart of the school, surrounded by hallways and other rooms; no natural light enters the space.  I am oblivious of the weather on most days, unless a downpour falls so hard that I can hear it on the roof.

I love it when I get the chance to have hallway duty outside of the library in the morning.  I make it a point to greet each student on their way to the third and fourth grade wings.  This morning, one stopped to inform me that we were going to be under a red flag warning for fire danger tomorrow.  I remarked that there was some drizzle on the way to work, so maybe the rain would mitigate the possibility.

I left work at five pm under the same gray, broody sky--but without any precipitation.  Home in just a few minutes, I tossed my raincoat on the chair in the study and headed back outside to sit on the front porch for some fresh air.  The breeze blew like yesterday, rolling those gray clouds on by, the sun trying shyly to push its way in.

But there was no rain to be had from those traveling puffs of water vapor.  One of my plants echoed the desperate need for water, 

while another is merrily making its way from covered pot to earth, little green florets defying the waving red flag.

SOLSC '25 Day Two: A walk in the 'hood

 

I am participating in The Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life Story Challenge, writing every day during the month of March.  My theme this year is "Outdoors".

Eschewing the crunchy gravel of the hike-and-bike, I

Choose the sidewalk instead, my sneakered feet softly padding

A straight path, then following the curve of a cul-de-sac

Where the wind pushes against me, gusting and 

Sweeping winter's detritus away, brown leaves 

Skittering across the pavement.

A little free library stands bravely against the breeze

I should stop and check the contents, but my life

Is already full of books

Barren trees tease me; are they dead, or just 

Biding their time, waiting for the wind to tidy up

Before decorating our skies with green once more

Neighbors still have their Christmas lights up

I don't fault them one bit

We all need more light in our lives

And more prayer

As St Francis attends to a bird

I'm sure he's happy spring is on its way

Rounding a corner, and there is the garage

Boldly painted in avian blue

Decades-old art gracing the street

The swell of the sidewalk over a toddler-sized hill

There will be bikes, and skateboards

Enjoying the small thrill soon, I imagine

A fairy-sized log cabin of a mailbox

Proudly waves the flag

Against the light blue sky

This giant rock grabs my attention when I pass

I always wonder about the ribbon of stone 

Running through the middle...but never stop to investigate

Almost home, and there is the bush

That once was a mighty oak, felled by ice

Chopped to pieces, and moved to the back patio

Where a lizard can rest in the warming sun.

SOLSC '25 Day One: Scaly sign of spring

 

I am participating in The Two Writing Teachers' Slice of Life Story Challenge, writing every day during the month of March.  My theme this year is "Outdoors".

I filled the birdfeeder hanging from our old, rundown playscape a little later than usual, and kept looking out the kitchen window to see if I had any takers.  I spotted something small and brown moving quickly from the playscape to our back patio.  It seemed to walk on top of our yellowed, winter-weary grass and not through the blades, so I thought it was a bird...until it climbed up on one of the logs from our fallen oak.

It was a lovely spring-is-coming day, perfect for a lizard to warm up its cold-blooded little body.  Almost camouflaged against the wood, it cocked its head in my direction as I said my hellos through the glass.  It didn't rest long.  Maybe the sun was a bit too hot today, and it skittered down the log and out of sight.  

After a few minutes, I heard my son call out to me from his bedroom--"Come here, quick!".  He had opened his curtain to let the light in, and there was our scaly friend, peeking in for a few minutes before making its way to who knows where, on this balmy springlike day.