And so begins my year...

Today was the first day I stepped into my new class in my new school. The kids don't start for another week, but unless there really ARE such things as magical fairies, those boxes aren't gonna unpack themselves.

So up I got, much earlier than my body wanted me to, got myself dressed, and went in to work. A new year, a new school, new staff members to meet, new kids to teach. While there's some aspects of same-ness in the new school year (I've been teaching for five years now and I've taught this grade before), it's still a little like starting a new job. I was trying to have a good attitude about it, cause my heart is still very much with my school. You'll notice I still refer to it as "my school." I can't quite call it my "old" school yet.

I drove all the way there - my new commute takes me almost directly past my [old] school - pondering, thinking, reflecting... I had gotten myself into a rather philosophical state as I parked, found an unlocked door, and wandered my way into the office to introduce myself and to get the key to my new room.

When I waled in, there was just one lady in the office, looking out the window. And so it begins, thought I, as I said hello and got her attention.

I introduced myself, she told me her name, and then, motioning towards the window, said, "Uh, we're just having a bit of a bird situation here."

A what?

A bird situation indeed.

I looked out the window on to a sort of enclosed roof area - the four walls of the school rose another story over the roof, making kind of an open-topped cube-like area. On the roof - the bottom of the "cube" - were two young seagulls who had fallen in and gotten stuck. They must have been too young to fly, but they kept trying anyway. They'd flap their wings and get about two feet off the ground, but then would smack into the window or the brick wall with a sickening thud. Out ON the roof trying to help them was the principal, holding a fraying, patchy grey blanket that he was using to try to catch them. The seagulls would hurl themselves against the wall, he'd try to cover them with the blanket and grab them, they would shriek and flap and get away, and he'd be left empty handed.

And of course, where there are babies, there are parents. On the top of the walls of the school watching this all unfold were two very, very angry adult seagulls who were shrieking at him with sounds I didn't know seagulls were capable of making - it was almost like they were barking. He'd try to catch the young birds, they'd flap and try to fly and hurtle themselves into the wall, the adults would bark louder and occasionally dive bomb him, and the whole cycle would repeat.

As I watched all this chaos unfold, the lady I had initially said hello to turned to me and laughed. "Welcome to our school. This is a pretty good indication of what it's like here."

Oh, I can sense some stories coming on! hehehe!