The
Canada geese are back. This morning the creek beside my house is a free-for-all,
full of squeak and honk and bawl. One pair of birds has secured the island, and
knowing the worth of that ground, spends huge amounts of energy keeping others
away. Still, weeks from now they'll see the water rising all around and in
their own goose way understand, and just like that set off for higher ground. Through twenty years of living in this house, the return of geese
has always been the sure-fire sign of spring. According to my journals, on
average their arrival is more than a week sooner than it was in the early 1990's.
Of
course the goose banter still cheers, being a song about slipping the heart of
winter. But winter is less now than it once was. And we will change with it - feeling
the sheer breadth of the cold months less; but also, for the first time, showing
the slightest bit of discomfort about summer. Summer having been for so long in
the Rockies only exquisite; now, though, bringing as well thoughts of fire.
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