Walking by the lake last evening, I saw one of the coolest things ever: a huge migration, hundreds - thousands - of geese. There was quite a crowd of them on the lake, making quite a noise. That's not terribly unusual though; we've had waves pass through for at least a month now. But off in the horizon to the south I saw something different I had never seen before. It was a huge dark mass of geese, as if someone had scrawled a line with a thick black marker. It was so thick and so dark I would call it a swarm of geese. Then, more awesome still, the birds started peeling off, one at a time into a long thin line across the sky. As they got closer to this side of the lake they reformed yet again into several more traditional v-shapes and flew - honking loudly - RIGHT overhead. Even little Paisley just stopped and sat, staring up at them. Pretty much everybody privileged to see the spectacle in the park last night stopped and stared silently. I always find the sight of migrating birds awe inspiring, spring or fall. How miraculous it is that these creatures fly thousands of miles, twice a year, without any kind of map - at least not one we would traditionally know as such. But last night's display added a new dimension to my experience and I feel so incredibly grateful to have been a humble spectator to their majesty.
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