Fall is my favorite season. Very dear to me are the rich and beautiful fall colors I see this time of year; resembling the changing leaves I remember from my youth in Vermont. For the most part, Florida remains in its evergreen state through the fall and still, this time of year always makes me sentimental. I daydream of being a girl and kicking my way through the mountain, it seemed to me then, of leaves piled high on the front lawn. All it takes is a crisp dry day or the sight of a lovely fall wreath to send me back.
In kind, the stories and poems I remember as a child are as magical for me today as they were then. The writers are immortalized forever in my mind. Robert Frost, Hans Christian Andersen, Walt Whitman…. As I sit here forming a philosophy about my desire to teach; I think it may, at least in part, be my childhood admiration for the stories that makes me devote myself to sharing this love for literature and writing with others.
I sit designing pedagogical outcomes for the upcoming semester, knowing that my methods will change and most definitely my interpretation of why I began in the first place. Many wonderful teachers along the way inspired in me the desire to dig, dissect, internalize, and to recapitulate how literature made me feel and what it meant.
My hope, as I embark on this journey, is that I encounter in my colleagues many more of those magical people who make me re-evaluate who I am and why I do what I do.
~ Cheers!
Eve McKay
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
-- Robert Frost
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