We left for Ohio this morning under clear, frigid skies; the temperature in Columbia was 5 degrees F. Prepared for an unexciting journey across snowy, familiar terrain, my spirits were suddenly lifted about ten miles east of town.
There, a massive flock of snow geese swirled above the Interstate, having spent the night on adjacent farm fields. As the vocal migrants circled higher, groups flew off in various directions, getting their bearings as they travelled toward Arctic breeding grounds. En route, they will likely make several more stops to rest and feed, oblivious of conditions that keep most humans in our heated shelters.
Always an emotional experience, the sight of migrant snow geese (this time a thousand or more whites and blues) leaves me inspired and humbled. Their determined flight, while instinctual, is an ancient journey of survival and their magnificent, wavering flocks have graced the skies long before we humans came to understand the extent and purpose of their seasonal travels.
