Though it was sunny and mild in central Kansas this afternoon, the landscape had the dry, brown look of winter. Spring was but a dream; then I saw them.
Heading west on Interstate 70, just west of Russell, I encountered several large flocks of greater white-fronted geese, wavering northward in the deep blue sky. Having wintered along the lower Mississippi Valley or on the western Gulf Coast, they were on their way to their breeding grounds, the Arctic tundra of Canada and Alaska. Of course, they stop to rest and feed along the way, generally setting down in crop stubble where they feast on waste grain.
Like the blooming of crocuses and the lengthening daylight, migrating geese reassure us that nature's season of rebirth is proceeding on schedule. We humans know that there is plenty of winter ahead but the hardy geese do not consult the calendar. Neither are they prone to impatience.
