Dear Oak,
You were swinging and singing. The swing went forwards and backwards, and your voices followed back and forth, back and forth. John was weeding, pulling up foxtails. You went to help, taking care of Rainbow School.
Some of you grabbed from the bottom pulling up the whole plant roots to the ends, the foxtail itself. Some of you grabbed from the middle big handfuls of green. One of you thought to just pull off the foxtail itself, the part that turns yellow and pokey and grabs onto you when you walk by, the part that wants to be carried off to grow new foxtails far and wide, the part where the seeds are.
Later, I switched places. One of you joined another to play drums for a while and make up new songs. A few of you gathered around me to look at the daddy long legs, pill bugs, beetles, and pincher bugs that had been living among the roots of the foxtails and were scurrying to find new homes.
Love,
Teacher Michelle