They’ve come.
They’ve gone.
And I still haven’t gotten a really good photo of them . . .
Few things cause me more agita than seeing something spectacular and a little unusual and not being able to share it with you.
And for that reason, the snow geese that come through here on their migration have been a source of great agita.
Every November, septo-quazillions of snow geese arrive. I think they choose this area because we have lots of water and protected bays as well as many, many corn fields that have recently been harvested.
They are the absolute highlight of late autumn for me. I follow them around with a camera and, yet, I am never satisfied. I can’t capture the sheer numbers of them, I can’t capture the racket they make, I can’t capture the way their white wings, with the black tips, glitter against a blue sky, and the way a mass of them, rising from the lake, appear to be a storm of snowflakes, falling up.
The first time I ever saw them, I was taking a walk by the lake and could see a line of snow across the bay. But it was well above freezing and that couldn’t be snow . . .
Plus it was moving.
My mother and I went to watch them a couple weeks ago. The geese were all placid and happy and chortling near shore. I said to my mom, “If I were a different kind of person, I’d throw a stone, just so we could see them all take off at once.”
A moment later, a small plane flew low overhead . . . and the geese all took off at once. And me, not quick enough to get a video that might’ve conveyed the majesty . . .
A few days later, I drove home at twilight. We’d had snow that covered the ground and made it difficult for the geese to find leftover corn. But at that moment, three huge harvesters were at work in the fields . . . and uncountable geese were whirling and swirling and rising and falling around the harvesters.
A Thanksgiving all-you-can-eat buffet for hungry birds.
All along the rural road, cars pulled over to watch the scene. I sat and gawked and took a ton of photos and was so excited . . . and the photos look like nothing special at all.
Maybe some moments are not meant to be captured, to be frozen, to be stopped in time.
Maybe the snow geese are simply to be experienced.
Maybe you need to come next November and see them for yourself!
Love Those "Hands at Home" 