One of the things I enjoy about autumn is the apparent heightening of the senses. The increased humidity means smells loiter in the air. As the sun moves out of the way a bit, colors seem brighter. Cooler weather means more baked goods in the oven and stews that simmer a while, heightening our enjoyment of foods we haven’t enjoyed for a season. The sparse leaves block less sound; it travels farther and seems to linger longer in the damp.
Yester-eve I carried some leftovers out for the night creatures and discovered a plethora of birds waiting in the dense cover. The Juncos (snowbirds) are here already and joined the cardinals and jays in the pip-pip of settling down for the night.
I also heard an unusual bird sound I couldn’t quite pinpoint. The guttural, vibrating call was unfamiliar though I instinctively knew it was a bird. I stood still, trying to figure out where it came from and to see if I could spot the caller. The sound seemed to be moving from left to right.
Geese make me think of people, traveling in a crowd. Their lines are jaggedly forming, breaking and reforming. They seem to have a great deal to discuss.
“Have you been this way before? How long is the trip? Are there good places to stop over? Do you think it will be a long winter? Are your children with you?”
Two hundred geese make a dramatic impact on the evening sky. Autumn wouldn’t be the same without them and I feel blessed to be in their audience.
* Photo of migrating geese by Brocken Inaglory, shared on Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Snow_geese_and_ducks_at_sunset.jpg