A few days ago while on a neighborhood walk, I was privileged to witness a flock of geese flying overhead. There are several ponds in the neighborhood and many geese make themselves at home, spending their summer days wading in the water and tramping through the yards. They’ve started migrating again, headed south to a milder climate now that the days are shortening and becoming cooler. Geese are magnificent in flight, such peaceful, powerful creatures. As they flew by, I could hear the wind rushing through their wings and it gave me goosebumps. Then off they went, swiftly disappearing into the horizon. It reminded me of this poem by Barbara Howes:
Wild Geese FlyingAware at first only of the dust of sound Drifting down to us here in the yard, I saw him look up, searching fathoms of air As for tidings, Some urgent spirits’ honking aloft: Wild geese there – and my eyes strained after. Into that azure, then there they were, Flying in a straggle, so high, a wonder , Glinting like wafers, silver fish – Scales in the sun, Strewing of foil confetti, yet aimed; The string of a kite’s tail Dipping, being drawn Through that gulf stream of air By their migrant passion – At the edge of sight I still found them. Then, abruptly, nowhere.
Blessings to you,