First Day of School

The first day of school has always had a special kind of hold on me. I can feel it in the first atumnal breeze that the deciduous trees shrug off like an unpleasant premonition, or perhaps a memory. Like the trees, I know the change is coming, but don't want to believe it until late-August when I sense the familiar yearning for falling leaves, new school books, rich discussions, warmer clothes and close-toed shoes.

The feeling was particularly strong this year as I found myself wandering around the Alaskan Interior in the middle of August. Although daylight lasted longer, the weather was colder and the shadows were longer, which hastened my longing for a new year of learning.

A short while ago, some dear friends asked if I would play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" during the processional of their wedding. And so I spent a good part of my vacation in Alaska learning that song, as I did on the doorstep of this tiny cabin at Hatcher Pass north of Anchorage. It seemed an apt place to play, but "The Sound of Music," kept creeping it's way into the tune.

Still, I enjoyed the feeling of staying barefoot before school started, if at least for a little while longer.