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PatchWork |
Last Updated 09/06/05
Email: joy@our-town.com
Wild
Geese
About
7:30, I pulled on a coat, stuck a cap over my hair and went out to the old dairy
barn to serve breakfast to the cats who live there. That north wind had a sharp
bite to it that made me hurry along the graveled driveway and across the grassy
part of the yard. We keep the cat feed in a retired refrigerator so wild
critters who also love Alley Cat, can’t get to it, but the cats all know
it’s there and immediately they came from their beds to rub around my warm-up
clad legs, softly telling me that they were absolutely starving.
With
the cats purring as they ate, I scooped up a small bucket of hen scratch for the
guineas and a bucket of wild birdseed for the front yard feeder and started out
of the barn. Before I got to the
door, I heard the honking of wild geese and my heart leapt up.
As long as I can remember, the mournful call of geese as they migrate
through the country sky, has stirred feelings within my very soul.
Each time
I’ve heard that sound I’ve run into the yard and with head tilted back,
watched the graceful flight of those birds.
At least once, as a young child, I imagined myself actually leaving the
ground and joining them. Ever after
that in dreams, I have flown with the geese through a powder blue sky above
green meadows and thick stands of trees on their long journey to a cold land.
This morning
the geese didn’t fly over the farm as they have every year that we’ve had
stewardship of this land, but to my delight and surprise, they came down in a
coastal field, not more than 200 yards away.
I rushed to the house and grabbed up a pair of binoculars.
“Come on,” I shouted to Tom. “Come
see the wild geese.”
Together
we watched them from the back porch. Hundreds of birds were already on the
ground with more coming in. They were big birds, bigger than I ever thought they
were. Newcomers landed among the others, wings spread and banked for landing.
And how they did talk! Their
honking was almost constant as they talked to friends and relatives about the
abundant grass and water they had discovered.
Throughout
the day I watched the geese, at first using a round hay bale for a buffer
against the north wind and then retreating to the back porch.
I stayed there, staring through my binoculars watching new-comers zip in,
long legs tucked back, wings outspread and then curved in descent until they
landed beside friends in the green meadow. My cup of coffee got cold while I
watched but the activity of those beautiful birds was so intriguing, I
couldn’t stop looking. Finally I
had to go inside, out of the cold but I went back many times during the day to
watch the geese.
As
I watched the geese graze, challenge each other, give each other kisses, and
then lift up on snowy wings and sail over to another spot in the field,
housework went undone. I couldn’t
tear myself away from the geese. Late
in the afternoon they were still there and as darkness settled over the farm,
the geese bedded down near the giant pecan tree in the middle of the meadow. I
watched them until it was too dark to see.
Since there was no moon, I knew they would stay where they were instead
of flying away as they do on moonlight nights.
The
next morning they were still there, grazing and drinking from the little stream
that runs through our place after a rain. I had to leave for town about
mid-morning, but I stopped for a few minutes to look at the meadow filled with
snowy birds. They were still there
but to me it seemed that they were restless.
They were scattered across the grass but milling around.
Occasionally one would lift off with two or three others following, only
to float gracefully back to the ground. I watched this restless movement and
felt that when I came back they would be gone.
When
I came home a couple of hours later, as soon as I came within sight of the
meadow, I stopped and searched for the geese. They were gone, moved on to other
fields where I could not follow. My
grieving heart had been lifted with the arrival of the geese and my deep sorrow
lessened a little while they stayed. It
was then that I knew why the geese came and why they left.
The lesson was plain.
Wild
geese stopping on their way to another place was a brief moment of wonder like
the growth of a child born into a loving family.
Every minute that they are with us is to be enjoyed and remembered
because once they are gone, we have only the memories.