Everything, All at Once
I was expecting it to be a little chilly on my morning
walk. I glanced out the window and saw
that it was dawning gray again. This is the
fourth consecutive day of clouds as one of the first colder weather fronts has
been dragging its way through Wisconsin.
We didn’t get the real big rains that were predicted, but we got enough,
and it was the season’s first cold rain.
They’ll get colder, no doubt, but the weekend found me rummaging around
for a fleece jacket that was still packed away from last spring.
I was braced for the cool as I headed out the door,
but I was still a bit surprised that I noticed for the first time this fall
that I could see my breath. Since it
hadn’t cleared off last night I thought that perhaps the air wouldn’t be quite
as chilled as was predicted.
It was a quiet, almost hushed morning as it seemed as
though all of Nature was deep in prayer.
As I passed the big ponds to the west I caught glimpses of geese scattered
across the calm water, almost as if they were fixed in place as a painting of
geese on a pond. From those I could see,
I thought there was at least twenty or so geese scattered across the pond.
Then, with the ponds now a good half mile behind me I
heard a single goose blurt out a single note.
That was the maestro’s baton. Suddenly,
it was as if that single note was bouncing around like a pinball, but it was
really multiple birds sounding off. I
glanced back over my shoulder to see about 50 geese lifting into flight and
headed my direction. They weren’t going
far as they leveled off at a height of maybe 100 feet or even less in the air. There didn’t appear to be a plan as they
stayed bunched up rather than when they form into those orderly V formations
that knife efficiently through the headwinds. I could tell that they haven’t been shot at
yet this fall as they crossed the road directly overhead even though I was
unhidden and obvious on the blacktop beneath them.
At first I was surprised by their number; I had
seriously miscounted. This first group
exceeded by double the number I originally thought were even on the pond. But I also saw a second group, somewhat
smaller, lift off and head to the east.
Then, as if on cue a group of a dozen or so sandhill cranes take flight
and head to the south, their trembling trumpeting calls almost overwhelming the
honking of many more geese.
Then, from the near corner of the big pond a dozen or
so ducks burst skyward. I guessed them
to be mallards because of the large size and the raspiness of they
calling. I don’t know which, if any of
them were listening – if ducks listen, because they all seemed to be calling at
once to me. They headed due north,
climbing in altitude like they intended to be flying for some time.
I watched the ducks disappear over the trees, and then
I turned my attention back to the direction of the pond. All of this happened in the course of no more
than two minutes, probably less than that.
It was then that I noticed the doe and fawn, about 100 yards from me, in
the direction of the ponds. They were
standing still, both of them looking back towards the ponds. I was thinking that they, like me, were wondering
what all the fuss was about.
The morning slipped back into silence.
His Peace <><
Deacon Dan
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