I live in front of a school yard. The sunroom facing the green beyond the cypress hedge is my favourite spot for work.
I live in front of a school yard, and it naturally comes with school kids and school bells. You can count on that for time check. If you wake – in fright – at the strike of the bell, you’re late.
That happens on holidays as well, and it’s a good prank to yank you out of your fuzzy dream state, if only for a moment.
During break time, I can hear the kids rushing out of the doors to release the big bout of energy they’ve contained for a good 2 hours in class – that must feel like a year or a life time for kids.
At the same time, snow geese flock over, hovering above in messy flight pattern, nonetheless disciplined, powerful, purposeful. They fly over in sync with the recess bells. Their yapping blend into the kids’ screaming, echoing in the school yard.
In the evening, I can count on the returning birds to tell time. Rain or shine.
But in most days, I am oblivious to these rhythms.
I wish I had paid more attention.