There is a robin’s nest under the eaves of the Commons. I have been watching the baby robins grow this spring, and today I was surprised to see that they are ready to fledge.
I’m not sure why it surprised me. It seemed like just yesterday they were pink hairy creatures, with huge yellow mouths gaping for food. Yet today, they were ready to fly– or at least almost ready.
Earlier this year, our faculty told us that their goal was to make us almost ready. Before our first student group of fifth graders in the fall, we would almost be ready to teach. Before our first lesson leading 8th graders cross-country skiing, we would almost be ready to care for students’ brains and bodies in the winter. By the time we completed our capstone, we would almost be ready to carry on, and to leave this place.
With just a few days left, I am not ready to leave. I have grown so much this year, both as an educator and as a conscientious member of our community. I have built ties to this place, people, and program, and I am not ready to let go.
Nevertheless, just like the baby robins, the time has come. I either need to realize that I am almost ready, or perhaps that I never will be. Either way, the time has come to fly.
If I had wings like Noah’s dove
I’d fly the river to the one I love
Fare thee well, my honey, fair thee well
I remember one evening, in the pouring rain
In my heart, was an aching pain
Fare thee well, oh honey, fare thee well
Lyrics from Fare Thee Well, Dink’s song