Snow Geese
Katherine D. Bennett
(First published in the Lathrop News Thursday, April 3, 1997)
Did you see the snow geese when they flew home? They flew so high they were like tiny white flashes against the grey clouds. Their voices all blended together and echoed through the chill like the fading remnants of bagpipe song. For just a moment. they bunched and twirled like a drink being swished around in a glass, but then, their lines straightened and they resumed their course northward. They have gone home.
They are journeying to the still frozen arctic tundra. There, the great white hear stalk their prey, and the caribou scrape the snow away to find the delicate lichens. At the time the snow geese arrive. a time of plenty settles upon the cold, wild edge of the world. The tiny arctic foxes feast on the eggs and goslings. The wolves and bear have their fill of the geese. Even with these extremities, the geese prosper, feeding on the slow growing lichens and raising their babies.
I have to admit, the migration of the snow geese moves me. When I hear their keening cry and I watch them in the sky. one moment swirling like dandelion fluff on a breath of air, the next moment like an arrow newly shot, a great wanderlust overcomes me. It is like their voices blend together in invitation to come away and join in far away dances. It is a large feeling, and compelling.
But, the feeling doesn’t last long.
I remember all of the things the snow geese will never know the bright gardens. the cacophony of birdsong. the smell of newly mown lawns.
I remember all of the things I will never forget. The voices, the familiar faces, the good conversations
I remember how good it feels to know where a road leads and how easily I come to my own home. I am glad, sometimes, to be bound to this earth, and to be sheltered in this place.
I understand that someday I may need to go. I have to be realistic. I have children to raise and, although we all love it here, it may be beneficial, at some point, to move along. I hope I don’t have to make that choice any time soon. The nine plus years that we’ve lived in this area have been, for the most part, really fine.
So, for now, I am glad to be here. I will watch that baby oak tree in my yard grow taller. I will not resist my own roots growing deeper. Until the time comes, I will he a part of this tapestry. When the snow geese come back next fall, I will be glad to see them and listen to their wild, lovely song.