The murderer is easy. We have more than a hundred witnesses. The murderer is a lack of heat.
The scene: the DCHS senior English classroom.
The innocent victim: our core temperatures.
The temperature droped below freezing last night. When I entered my classroom this morning, I took off my jacket, started the coffee pot, and put my jacket back on. Our school has boilers, which the history department has confirmed as belonging to the mesopotamian era. These boilers have yet to be turned on.
So we struggled through the day, reading, discussing, and assessing vocabulary, all the while dragging our fleeting core temperatures behind us.
After work, I have a plan. To reinvigorate my core temperature, I am going to Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I need to get outside. Fall is the greatest time of year to be outside, not indoors, out in it, in the woods, hanging out with big mama Nature. For whatever reason, I have always loved being outdoors during fall, probably because I appreciate the tradition of hunting that has been in my family, but also because I care about perserving habitats. I combine those two passions like the perfect mix of ingredients in a pumpkin latte, like a boss.
(Assuming only my students will read this) To no one's great surprise, I will bring a book. Please don't think me incapable of living in the moment. In fact, I make great effort to be present in the moment. There are two reasons for which I always keep a good book with me. 1) too many times, I have been stuck somewhere with nothing to do and nothing to read. I find these moments unendurably drab. 2) I find that sitting down in the woods is a brilliant opportunity for reading and thinking. It is quiet. There is no one around to distract you. In fact, none of the modern distractions are present.
Even after darkness falls, I might remain there for a while, sitting, waiting, listening, and letting my mind quiet down. Sitting quietly in the woods is my Usain Bolt of methods for calming my mind. (Sidenote reminder to myself: I left my headlamp in *****'s car, so I need to pick up a flash light before I go) But eventually, I will get cold or hungry, and I will hike back to my car and drive back home, with a sense of calm, and a renewed sense of self.