Head Meets Desk

I've always suspected, but today I officially know that I cannot think inside. Brushing up on outdoor education techniques is making me antsy to go practice said techniques. You know, outdoors. Where it's clean and sunny and open.
It's also making me miss Marcia Carlson, who was my mentor of sorts for a short time before her passing (if you knew who she was, you would be very impressed). No matter what new methods or research I read about, I always refer back to the books she gave me from her personal library (again, impressive). My head just feels clouded, and I need someone to help me get back to the roots of outdoor ed. I can't help but think "if only I had more experience" or "will the kids understand this" or even wonder if I'm getting too off-track with my lesson plans.
I just feel like I need to sit under my Tree for a while and let my feet get muddy.
I was worried that I might be losing my passion for connecting with nature, but maybe I'm too passionate. I know what I'm supposed to be doing, what the youths should be learning, but I want so badly for everyone to be as excited about the outdoors as I am that I'm forgetting the point entirely. Or maybe I'm just drained from sitting at this desk all day.

 

Distant Birdsongs

 

Just past the window

I hear their sweet hearts calling,

muffled by the glass.