They were eye level to me. My home sits on a high ridge above the watery route over which they were flying. No spring leaves had yet emerged to disturb my view. Their long and slender necks undulated in a synchronized movement to the up and down motion of their wings; the first and last the same as the two in the middle; all as one. It was like a cresting ocean wave in flight.
What a gift of sight. What a gift of flight. It was a white reflective light of feathered grace. Quiet wings flapped one behind the other. No honking sound like Canada geese as they fly in formation to some field of rest and forage. It was a short silent moment that only stretched from eye to eye, and they were gone. Simple. Sublime. Superb. Sane.
I put on some soft and flowing music for me to replay their passage in my mind. Gifts from nature are often fleeting and profound. When they are presented to us rejoice in the gift and the reminder that appreciation is a path to wonder.
1 comment:
I admire the air show of skillful flight that birds, both big and small, give us. I wonder if they admire us when we get into a car and motor off to the ramparts.
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