Today I was watching a few leaves lingering in the air as they let themselves down to the grass, and it brought to mind my young students, whose minds seem to linger and glide and flow with any winds of thoughts that waft through the room. It usually frustrates me to see this kind of capriciousness in the students, but strangely, it doesn’t frustrate me to follow these little autumn leaves as they stray around and finally down to the ground. The leaves take a beautiful and lazy route as they fall, and my students sidle around and around as they think their way through a novel or a poem. Why should their whimsicality and waywardness be any less enjoyable to watch than the falling leaves I saw moving carelessly among the trees surrounding my house?
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