The Morning of the Monarchs

A moment of beauty, fragile and strong, can remind us of these qualities in ourselves.


Like so many, I'm walking through the tricky, bumpy landscape of what is fall 2021. My anxiety tells me to stay put, close myself in, and shut out the world. Yet I choose to step out and walk, one foot in front of the other.


My verbs today?

  1. Breathe

  2. Release

  3. Trust

I enter my silent and empty classroom, turn on my air filter to test the sound level--a gentle hum. A sigh of relief automatically releases. Day 2.


The beautiful strange once-familiar

What was once effortless feels different, unfamiliar, and strange.

I look out my window. The trees. Were they always this green? I had forgotten.


My phone buzzes. It's my dad. He awoke to a field of monarchs. Hundreds. Eating the red clover, then flying to the old evergreens and ash trees that my parents planted that hot,uncomfortable summer when we were babies.


I let out a breath; my lips turn upward in a smile under my face mask.

"Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is God's handwriting" -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monarchs, the symbol of transformation and rebirth. Literally guided by light and communicating through light, they, with wings fragile and paper thin, embark on a migration that spans multiple generations. Each generation moving through unknowns, trusting another generation will pick up where they leave off.


My eyes shift from the window to the picture of the beautiful, fragile yet strong, monarch passing through my childhood home.


Yes, today is tricky-- and beautiful.


So I pick up my pen, open my planner, and begin my work.