The geese are flying. I do not see them lifting from the nearby river, but their distinctive – that call and response – the hail to arise, to fly, to form up and move on – impossible to mistake.
Funny, they’ve slept in, but not really.
We humans in this part of the world ‘sprang forward’ last night, somehow ‘saving’ time (as if time could be saved – silly us, we keep trying) and in the process, losing an hour (who came up with that ad campaign? I wonder).
Whatever we humans call this hour of the day, the geese know what time it is.
It is time to fly.
