Snowflakes continue to fall silently to the ground. I look out into the distance peering through the misty white curtain around me. Bare tree branches dangle in the cold wind, silhoutted by a hazy mist. My footsteps crunch into the soft snow and are drowned into the white blanket around me barely before they form. The cold winter wind stings my cheeks as I walk on, my warm breath fogging up the cold air forming little clouds. The temperature dips down, swaying way below freezing. And then I spot them. All lined up neatly in rows of hundreds, sitting there motionlessly, huddled in the cold. Waiting and watching as the storm passes over head. Wild canada geese braving winter along the river's edge. They sit along the last ice free spots by the river bank, their backs speckled with snow. Old residents that have lived here all year long intermingled with visitors from up north. Honking and calling out loudly to one another, marking the slow passage of time through yet another wintering season.
~vagabond~ © 2009
To hear the calling of the Canada geese, click here
(Sound Byte courtesy of National Park Services)
