Along the shore they were gathered, and, as we slowly approached, they waded into the water, wondering perhaps at our intentions.
With perhaps a wary eye, they paddled away then, one flapping its wings furiously in takeoff, the others gathering speed on the water, disturbing its surface in the early morning stillness, creating rivulets in their wake.
First the one, then another, and soon the entirety were winging their way heavenward, soaring to places we could not go, but beholding beauty we nevertheless, with them, from our vantage point, could see – the mountain, the sunrise.
And then, from the sky above, came that iconic sound geese make in flight. Their honk is a call, it is said, “to keep the flock together while also preserving its unity.”
Ryan Julian writes, “The honking serves as a sort of motivation for the other geese, encouraging them to maintain the pace as well as letting them know where to go.”
Of these beautiful creatures of the heavens Barnes wrote, “they have no anxiety about the supply of their wants; they meet the coming light of the morning with their songs.”
That we could do so well.
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