Susan E. Lloy
Over and Over
Cycles are traditionally marked by time, sound, and sight. Okay—other things too. Each year my attention resumes to familiar ponderings with the return of the Canada Geese as they cross the skies in multiple V’s, often touching down on the still frozen land. Wings and feathers momentarily retaining the warmth of tropical winds.
In this orbit of time, I often think, what have I accomplished since their last migration? Failed diets follow one another like a procession in a parade and bad habits continue to thrive like steadfast weeds. My thoughts return to such musings with each marked arrival.
I think about these travellers of time and space and the multitudes of happenings that occur between autumn and spring: death, birth, war, plagues, revolutions, droughts, and the list goes on. Each year these silhouettes spread across the skies as if painted by an ink-socked brush. I wonder if my worries and woes will hitch a ride with them this autumn. Taking them far from me and this earth. Awaiting again their homecoming this spring, I hope an awakening will land with them.
I hear them honking across the sky, calling and directing air lanes and wind velocities. I wish they’d take me with them next time. Anywhere, for but a change. Honk if you feel me. AQ