This morning a crowd was gathered around a bowl on the front desk. A butterfly was emerging from its chrysalis! Within moments its wet and crumpled wings had begun to dry. Children checked on it all day. Now it is outside, preparing to take flight.
It is a wet Friday afternoon, the day after Meet the Teachers Night, at the end of a beautiful (and long) week. Still, it was pretty sane here this afternoon. 8th graders were reading The Crucible aloud. "I find here a poppet Goody Proctor keeps. I have found it, sir. And in the belly of the poppet a needle's stuck! I tell you true, Proctor..."
In another room sixth graders were using a formula to plot points on a graph. Seventh graders were in the science lab discussing the dynamics of the sound a police siren makes coming towards you and then receding.
K-1's were drawing from their own collection of autumn words. 4-5's were silently reading. 2-3's were running around the gym like maniacs.
Then I stopped in Pre K. They were carefully listening to a Bach cello suite. As they listened, they told what it sounded like. "Meg, it's water flowing in the ocean." "It's a pirate ship at sea, with pirates flying out."
I just checked. The butterfly is still there.