The world seems momentarily peaceful – the autumn gales have been horrendous.
My body is grateful for this temporary respite – a gentle wind is such a welcome change from the cold icy blasts that have beseeched the prairie lately. I exhale calmly. The windy onslaughts seem to be unleashed on the world when the urban inhabitants are uneasy – their angry fearful outbursts unbalance natural order with dissention. It is not global warming that beseeches the land; it is heated rage or callous icy innuendos that extricate the gales.
I breathe in clean fresh air as I follow a curvy path that leads south. It is the same direction the snow geese are following. The sun hits their feathery bodies and they shine silver in the calm fall air above me. I can clearly hear their calls as they fly above me in a familiar “V” pattern. Each member of the flock has their view unimpeded. All can see what lies ahead on their path. There are some geese that are falling behind. It is communicated to the leader. The leader adjusts its pace so that the flock remains together but it is still moving too fast and the flock honks out their distain.
snow geese photo cbc.ca
The Trefoil Muse 
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