The morning was silent, grey…worn down after a tight week of work, meals, politics, illness…and all the nonsense of systems gone wrong, people inadequate, property taxes raised and what on earth would come of all the suffering in Ukraine and in the eastern lands?
With a sudden rattle and deafening cawing and scramble…with a mad fluttering, a crowd of energized winter geese honking wildly…rose up over the rooftops…sinew and muscle obeying the orders of the Creator…above the weary earth…the simplicity of an ordered instinct…resting in the direction of the flight…
690 Saint Paul 