Drip, Drip, Drip
It is the time of the school year in which we always struggle to find a sense of continuity and regularity in our schedule. We have ski adventures, skating excursions, long weekends, and the inevitable snow days that seem to trip up our weeks and break them into sporadic chunks.
At the same time, the weather here at Randolph School has been unlike any winter in recent memory, with unseasonable warmth followed by bone-chilling blasts of cold and icy snow. The maple trees have responded in kind, flowing sap much earlier than normal and in a much less predictable rhythm, coming in fits and starts rather than a steady drip, drip, drip.
The children are out there, of course, gathering around our maple trees to measure, observe, and predict. They are drilling holes, tapping spiles into tree trunks, and hanging buckets to collect the sweet gift of sap. The sap may have to be augmented a bit during the evaporating process, or perhaps we will simply make do with less homemade syrup this year. Maple Fest is coming soon however (March 12!), so one way or another we will figure out a way to have plenty of syrup for our delicious pancake breakfast!
I thought I might write something here about the unpredictability of life’s flow, and somehow do a fancy tie-in to the type of work we do here at Randolph School preparing children with the skills, attitudes, and flexibility needed to face an ever-changing world. I think I prefer instead to think about how grateful I am that, even in the face of surprising and unforeseeable forces, we are still able to enjoy the little pleasures of life that come our way like the gift of dripping sap collecting insistently in the bottom of a galvanized tin pail at the base of an ancient maple tree.