I see a flock of geese in the distance flying over a field of wheat stubble. It’s a Wednesday morning, driving along a remote road in northwest Minnesota. The geese seem to organize themselves, but apparently dissatisfied, they split, regroup and try to form again. I know they aren’t just practicing. This dance is for real. It’s the start of their journey south.
There is magnificence in their dance. The rhythm and flow can be seen for miles, yet probably goes unnoticed except by their creator and one or two people on this autumn morning.
As I race south for another appointment, I remember as a youngster in South Dakota watching ducks and geese fly over, settle in swamps and cornfields. Year after year, the excitement of the migration grew in September, peaked and then waned with the last of the birds flying south when the winds on the prairie got bitterly cold with spitting snow.
Last spring, I watched a flock of snow geese gliding into a shallow, reed lined lake near Britton, South Dakota. That too, reminded me of growing up in the country. As these birds settled onto the water, I thought how much I missed seeing the seasons.
I have this sense of having missed so much nature and her seasons by sitting in an office building or just being too busy to notice. Yet, I now realize how much I treasure that which might have become mundane had I never left.
I catch myself six months later, noticing again that there is so much going on, day in and day out that shouts “LIFE!”
My work gives me distances to drive in country. I get to savor it with eyes of appreciation and new memories rediscovered. Now is the time to hear those shouts and take notice.
Take time to notice, to watch geese in the distance.
Comments