The poetry walk began with a stop outside the SCARFE building, a very familiar place for all of us where we had spent many hours together. There, we discussed the many ways different beings communicate and used those ideas as inspiration for our first poem.
A poem by Kirsten, “Learning from Birds”
Hummingbirds sing their songs as the teachers run along
Birds of the air fly without a care but teachers do not dare to slow down and breathe in the summer air
Winged creatures understand the value of leisure however teachers lose this comprehension under all their pressures and stressors
May teachers be able to learn from these birds by finding a balance between slowing down to a birds pace and keeping up with the teacher race
A poem by Susan, "Grip (a Fib poem)"
This Bittersweet Vine grips Brutal stone wall For dear life, holding tight To the ragged surface becoming soil becoming humus Human made stone, concrete poem, tender green leaves breaking down the harsh verticals Making space for the green ephemeral lives of spring Making a place for us To live afresh Gripping tightly Leaning Sunward.
Our second stop was a children's garden that had fallen into some neglect. Despite this, we could still see remnants of what had once been planted there, including crab apples, blueberries, and other edible plants. This space inspired us to create a list poem based on our observations and the stories the garden seemed to hold.
| Blueberries slowly ripening |
Arbutus: You’re welcome to build your own nest.
Birds: Oh, may I invite some of my guests?
Arbutus: Of course! In nature, kindness is the best!
On a wall worn by years of rain and sunlight, a quote by Peabody catches the eye: "Education is a debt due from the present to future generations." Though the words have faded, their message remains powerful. Education is more than a profession or a field of study; it is a promise and a commitment.
As I looked around the garden, I couldn't help but see a reflection of that promise. The benches sit empty, waiting for visitors, and the garden itself seems forgotten. Yet its spirit remains alive. There is something in the stillness that feels like a gentle invitation, a reminder not to forget the values that brought us here in the first place.
Another stop took us to an area beside the SCARFE building where we observed examples of guerrilla gardening. This was particularly inspiring, as we discovered two Katsura trees, known for their leaves' sweet scent, often compared to cotton candy or strawberries. These trees were later rescued by our team and brought back to the orchard garden to be replanted.
| A poem by Katie |
| Katsura tree |
Throughout the walk, we had opportunities to slow down, observe carefully, and engage our senses. Rather than focusing on productivity or completing tasks, we were encouraged to notice the world around us and connect with it more deeply. It felt like a meaningful experience that allowed us to become more in touch with both ourselves and our surroundings.
In the afternoon, we participated in a work party in the garden. Together, we removed a large patch of buttercups and other deeply rooted plants, potted and replanted the rescued Katsura trees, cleared pathways, organized the shed, and planted seedlings. Throughout the day, we experienced sunshine, heavy rain, and sunshine again, yet our spirits remained high. We approached each task with enthusiasm and enjoyed spending time working together outdoors.
During the walk, I found myself thinking about the balance between ensuring students develop concrete, measurable skills while also creating space for spontaneity, play, and exploration. I saw many parallels between gardening and teaching, particularly in the tension between careful planning and allowing things to unfold naturally. In the garden, there was a focus on observing what the plants needed and responding accordingly rather than imposing a rigid plan. This reminded me of educational approaches such as Montessori, where educators follow students' interests and developmental cues while still providing structure and intentional guidance. The goal is not to simply let children do whatever they want, but rather to pay close attention to how they are growing and learning and to support that process thoughtfully.
I saw this idea reflected in the guerrilla garden, where plants had emerged and flourished in unexpected spaces. It made me think about how learning often happens in the small moments in between planned lessons—in conversations, observations, discoveries, and experiences that cannot always be predicted. The walk highlighted the value of creating environments where growth can occur organically while still holding a sense of purpose and care.
