My day started with a small group of colleagues gathered around a table sipping coffee and discussing a chapter from a book we are reading together. The topic of this particular chapter was about asking complex questions of our students. I spent the rest of the day being very conscious of my questions, trying to make them the kind that can’t be answered with one or two words.
When I sat down to write tonight and thought about what little nugget of this experience I would try to tease out in my writing, these words popped into my head and onto the screen. The title might seem odd but it is just going to have to stand for now.
I sat by the tree and began poking the ground with a stick
just to pass the time.
Finding a root, I began to drag the stick along its edge,
brushing away the loose dirt with my fingers.
I continued to prod and poke and scoop
exposing the root.
When the sun dipped behind the tree
and the coolness of evening caught up with me,
I paused finally,
cast aside my stick and traced the gnarled knuckles of the root with my fingers.
It was time to go home.