The other morning on the way to work, another round of Canada Geese were in the cornfield, resting and eating what they could find before they continued on their journey. I look out for the geese every day. Somehow, they are a comfort to me. This day, I decided to stop and take a photo. Unfortunately, by the time I got my SD stick out of my laptop and into my camera and out of the back seat of my car, the geese had moved off, too wary of me to continue scavenging in the harvested cornfield. They retreat to the grass farther away from the road. So, the photos are not good, but if you click on the photo, it will fill the screen and give you a better view if you would like.
These geese are just passing through. They came from somewhere farther North, but even here is not the end, not their Winter's resting spot. Snow will likely cover this field in a month. There was, though, a small flock who make their Summer home just a mile closer to my home on this same road. Each year they arrive, perhaps a half dozen pairs. Not long after they arrive, dozens of small grey goslings follow behind their parents. I am always amazed at how quickly they lay and hatch their eggs. This flock of geese spend the whole Summer in ths spot just down the road, where a small pond nestles in the middle of a few acres of grassy field. In another amazingly brief amount of time, the goslings are indistinguishable from their parents. Then they fly off, and it's Fall.
Right now, I can not describe why I feel so strongly about these geese, or even what I feel. It's almost like all the rhythm and power of seasons and life are condensed into these migrating geese.
Since the photos were taken, I haven't seen any more geese. I think the last of them have passed on through, but I look forward to their return.