Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The Geese

This time of year the Canadian geese are on the move at dusk. At my house, dozens, hundreds--some far up, some just above the house. I can hear them, and not just their calls, but their wings, as they move west to east (a peculiar direction, but maybe it's the wind and a free ride?). How can you not be amazed, be floored at this planet and the life on it? What do I matter without it? How can we be so passive about this world, give our consent--known or unknown, direct or indirect--to its ill health? I touch a spikey coneflower, I put my hands to the cool soil, I pile frozen rain beside the drive, I take in the air like a deep kiss, I open my mouth and my eyes and my ears and I sing, I vibrate with the tune of the world. I am a disciple of the inventor Nikola Tesla: the world has acoustical resonance. And I need to be retuned.

7 comments:

DirtDigger (Tessa) said...

Beautiful post...nuff said :)

Gardeness said...

Lovely. We'll soon be seeing the blue herons glide overhead. Truly magnificent.

MNGarden said...

Poetic!

Susan Tomlinson said...

Nice.

Anonymous said...

How do you know the geese are Canadian? They could have been born in America; the Canada goose is a year-round resident of Nebraska.

Benjamin Vogt said...

Anon--Yes, that's true. And what do we call those non-migratory geese?

Anonymous said...

Canada geese. Branta canadensis.