Their assembly stopped me.

Snow geese, occupying the flooded soybean field, and

Restless and noisy, holding me with their numbers and their beauty.

I had no choice but to stop, and

Through the camera’s lens saw how vast was their flock,

How the flock was itself a living being,

How the flock was bound by a deep inner accord.


Snow geese come south.

They assemble in great flocks upon these flooded soybean fields, and

With a deep inner accord,

Restless and noisy,

They stop me on my way.


But they are not only restless and noisy.

At an unheard and unseen signal

An entire phalanx takes flight, and

Leaving their cousins’ ground,

Moving in unison against the morning sky,

Display how many, indeed, they are.

They are. 

--January 17, 2013