Geese

The thing about getting on the computer to write a blog is that I generally check my email, facebook, and inevitably, the news before buckling down to writing a post. And lately, the news has just killed all desire I had to write a blog.  I just wrote a list of all the things that were depressing in the news this morning. And then I decided there was no reason to depress other people. So lets pretend the world is hunky-dory and discuss geese.

Geese are one of my favorite parts of fall. Mid-August, my ear starts listening for them. And when I hear the first ones, I get ridiculously happy. Something to do with seasons, the north, change, newness, wildness, patterns, and predictability. All of that combines into Canada geese. For a month or so, they are everywhere. In the sky, the fields, the rivers. Suddenly, there are fewer geese and the ones that are left are urgent, flying higher as the days get shorter--so high you can hardly hear their cries. And then we know, fall has come and winter is close. 

Mum always quotes this poem (or lines from it) by Rachel Field in fall and now I find myself quoting it to my kids and in my head every year.

Something Told the Wild Geese

Something told the wild geese

It was time to go.

Though the fields lay golden, 

Something whispered snow.

Leaves were green and stirring, 

Berries, luster glossed.

But beneath warm feathers,

Something whispered, "frost."

All the sagging orchards.

Steamed with amber spice.

But each wild beast stiffened,

With remembered ice.

Something told the wild geese

 It was time to fly.

Summer's sun was on the wings, 

Winter in their cry.

One morning, there were flocks of geese from three different directions converging on a neighbors field. The air was filled with honking. Which doesn't really translate in the video. But it made me really happy.