In the midst of a cold, steady rain, the distinctive call of snow geese descended from the skies late last evening. Hitching a ride on northerly winds, they were off to marshlands along the Gulf of Mexico, where they will spend the winter months.
Though I could not see them in the dark, cloudy sky, their calls were no less inspiring and suggested the presence of several flocks, strung out from east to west; eventually, as the travellers moved on to the south, their high-pitched calls faded in the night. While these flocks will escape the Midwest winter, others will follow in their wake, gathering at staging areas along the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers; hopefully, I'll get the chance to visit them before they, too, move on to the Gulf.
Until then, I will listen for other flocks in the night, stirred by the wildness of their collective voice. For theirs is a message of freedom, a call to join them as they follow the sun.
