One swallow does not make a summer, but one skein of geese, cleaving the murk of a March thaw, is the spring. A cardinal, whistling spring to a thaw but later finding himself mistaken, can retrieve his error by resuming his winter silence. A chipmunk, emerging for a sunbath but finding a blizzard, has only to go back to bed. But a migrating goose, staking two hundred miles of black night on the chance of finding a hole in the lake, has no easy chance for retreat. His arrival carries the conviction of a prophet who has burned his bridges. A March morning is only as drab as he who walks in it without a glance skyward, ear cocked for geese.
Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac
It is very cold here this morning, so there will be no open water for a few weeks and no returning Canada geese, but I have been hearing them in my dreams.
1 comment:
Your photos are SO GOOD.
It's still "melty days" here, and slippery of course because so much ice.
No complaints though. It's a pleasure to go outside.
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