My husband and I were walking in the rain and from overhead came a great honking noise. I stopped and looked up into rain falling on my face, and there in the sky, a great flotilla of geese honked their way across the heavens.
They didn’t fly in big “V”, although there were some little v’s among the group. The majority flew in irregular circles, like the edges of puddles, black dots that ebbed and flowed over our heads in a dance of movement and music. How they honked and flew at the same time was a mystery to us.
Why did I call them God?
I was reminded of Izak Dinesen’s book, Out of Africa, “The natives,” she said, "think the God of the Americans is old and infirm for he spends all day in a church. The God of Africa lives in the forest and the fields and on the mountain when the rains come.”
This week I have seen God, my three chickens began to lay after a long time of winter fallow, I got my book up from 21,000 words to 31,000, I have been inspired by Will Rogers who said, “Even if you are on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there,” I have let the pups in and out the back door 3,678 times, big boy hound dog, Layfette, has lost his testicles, and little Sweet Pea has had her first estrus.
The Daffodils are blooming.
I guess it’s spring.
How was your week?
Dancing baby goose.