chat center
SUBSCRIBE MY LINKS:

Latest Posts Full Chatboard Submit Post

Current Issue Table of Contents | Back Issues
 


TEACHERS.NET GAZETTE
Volume 4 Number 2

COVER STORY
When it comes to using their own money to purchase classroom materials and supplies, teachers have pockets deeper than Captain Kangaroo's...
REGULAR FEATURES
Apple Seeds: Inspirational quotes by Barb Erickson
Special Days This Month by Ron Victoria
Classroom Photos by Members of the Teachers.Net Community
February Poem
Winter Memories
The Lighter Side of Teaching
  • Goose the Substitute Teacher by Goose
  • YENDOR'S Top Ten
  • Schoolies
  • Woodhead
  • Handy Teacher Recipes
    Classroom Crafts
    Help Wanted - Teaching Jobs
    Recipe for Friends from the Lesson Bank
    PRINTABLES
    Sentence Builder
    Meet the Feet!
    Reading Contract
    Autobiography
    Upcoming Ed Conferences
    Letters to the Editor
    TEACHER INSPIRATION
    Why Be a Teacher? by smagee/k/tx
    I am feeling soooo good about this... by Tina
    ON-SITE INSIGHTS
    Do you keep track of how you come to think the way you do? by Roger Fuller
    Why Can't We Clone Great Teachers? by Dave
    February Columns
    February Articles
    February Informational Items
    Gazette Home Delivery:

    Poem
    Winter Memories

    Within the circuit of this plodding life
    There enter moments of an azure hue,
    Untarnished fair as is the violet
    Or anemone, when the spring stew them
    By some meandering rivulet, which make
    The best philosophy untrue that aims
    But to console man for his grievences.
    I have remembered when the winter came,
    High in my chamber in the frosty nights,
    When in the still light of the cheerful moon,
    On the every twig and rail and jutting spout,
    The icy spears were adding to their length
    Against the arrows of the coming sun,
    How in the shimmering noon of winter past
    Some unrecorded beam slanted across
    The upland pastures where the Johnwort grew;
    Or heard, amid the verdure of my mind,
    The bee's long smothered hum, on the blue flag
    Loitering amidst the mead; or busy rill,
    Which now through all its course stands still and dumb
    Its own memorial, - purling at its play
    Along the slopes, and through the meadows next,
    Until its youthful sound was hushed at last
    In the staid current of the lowland stream;
    Or seen the furrows shine but late upturned,
    And where the fieldfare followed in the rear,
    When all the fields around lay bound and hoar
    Beneath a thick integument of snow.
    So by God's cheap economy made rich
    To go upon my winter's task again.

    Henry David Thoreau


     

    #