Look. Look.

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Funny how I know “my” air so well.  In my kitchen drinking tea…listening to the morning meeting of the HusBen’s guitar business, I could feel a change in the atmosphere.  As they went on about which guitar was going to which country and something about a headstock…all of which has become my new normal…I looked out our circle window and pointed as my mouth was full of tea. “Look. Look,” I gulped.  With my dirty barn boots next to the door I grabbed my camera and the biting  icy air was a surprising  change from the sweet hot tea.

What a change in the atmosphere, indeed!

The change seemed to last forever.

The sound of the Snow Geese was both humorous and captivating.

The beat of that many wings at once like a heartbeat.

They seemed so ancient and knowing.

Shivering without a coat I couldn’t believe no one joined me to witness this gift.

We were raised to love birds… sitting on the window seat in my grandmother’s kitchen.  On the shelf had been leather-bound Audobon books which none of us needed but we would flip though when no birds were in view.  In the morning I  would climb up with my new Dr. Seuss book (which my grandfather had  slipped under my pillow after he would return late from work) and my grandfather and I would watch the bird feeder.  He would teach me the names of all the birds and I would commit the cardinal to memory.  But each time a bird would flit to the feeder we would act like it had never happened in our whole lives, “Look look!”  Then with Danny and the Dinosaur or Hop on Pop  and enough toast with honey to keep us both smelling like warm bread till lunch I would show him how far I had advanced in my reading.

So with the wind biting and the Snow Geese with their all knowing ancient migration  overhead, I called my best friend …

“Look Look…. the snow geese are migrating over your house!”