In the tenth grade it was Miss “B”, (our English teacher who was also known for being able to discover water with a divining rod), who set out to teach us the craft of speed reading. I loved to read, but it was never my desire to go faster, only deeper. A large percentage of the class welcomed this speed, wanting to get through a book as quickly as possible. To finish homework faster. Rifle through the pages and then bike to the Hardees parking lot for after school gatherings. And maybe some of them also thought of her as the “water witch,” but I was more interested in the “divine” of it all — for water and words. 

And that’s how I picture myself, still. Walking the fields of the paper. Twigs in each hand, searching for the meaning of each word. Getting lost in the magic of it all. The wonder. 

I don’t know if Miss “B” found the water. But I did find the divine. I do. Each time I open a book and crawl inside. Stepping lightly. Not to trample, but to gather in. Sometimes we learn, not the lesson at hand, but what our hearts need to know. If you need me, I’ll be out joyfully wandering.