Colin got on the bus very bravely this morning. Now it is thundering which is something he has a difficult time handling. It's a sudden loud noise. Lightning is the same thing -- sudden flash. So, I'll probably have a second cup this morning. I'm sure he's fine . . . way out there . . . at the big school . . . with an entirely new staff around him.
We have prayed earnest prayers for him yesterday and today. Nothing more can be done but to trust.
Meanwhile, let's crack open Grandma Malmberg's poetry scrapbook from her days as teacher at a country school. Here's a nice one from Carl Sandburg.
Sun, you may send your haze gold
Filling the fall afternoon
With a flimmer of many gold feather.
Leaves, you may linger in the fall sunset
Like late lingering butterflies before frost.
Treetops, you may sift the sunset cross-light
Spreading a loose checkerwork of gold and shadow.
Winter comes soon -- shall we save this, lay it by,
Keep all we can of these gold yellows?