geese, peanuts and things unknowable.

Geese honk back in the wetland

sunset lighting up their arrival

      in twos and fours, sometimes more.

Sitting in the woods

I can hear the wind coming from a distance

     through the treetops

     the roar like one of the great lakes.

A pair of owls hoot to each other

I look to the woodpile and wish I could chop.

~~~~~~

Chipmunks jump through the fallen leaves

sounding like the footsteps of bear

or deer

to be less dramatic about it all.

The woods are a source of many unidentified sounds

even after ten years of listening.

It still seems a bit frightening to the city ear.

The geese begin again

this time sounding like a pack of fox

but eventually I hear the distinction

     foolish me, city me

I am listening for a repeat of that night a predator found the

    geese.  Foxes, maybe wolves.

That was cacophony at its finest.

~~~~~~

I squat to pee

look up to see the trees naked, bare

no doubt that the season is about the change.

Shedding their leaves

tossing them aimlessly down to the ground

Baring the wisdom of toddlers

~~~~~~

I want to relinquish the city full of judgement

He noshes on peanuts like an 

      animated chipmunk

I choose to chew away the disgrace of it all.

He is immune to the pain.

~~~~~~

12:23 the owls have returned

Last night was the arrival.

Tonight the geese departed with the sunset.

They arrived in twos and fours and sometimes more.

They departed with a V-shaped

     flight.  there were at least 10,

     maybe 15 groups in all.

Back there.  Northwest of the property.

It is a goose rendezvous, my friends.

I wonder.

How do they choose their groups?

     is it first come first served?

do they seek the previous season's companions for the journey south?

do they seek out new friends each year?

do they feel the same feeling of

     dread that humans feel when

     knowing the damned obnoxious

     goose is going to be in the southbound

     flock again?

do they rush to arrive early in hopes of joining 

     the successful? 

     the loudest honkers?

     the most beautiful feathers?

~~~~~~

The woods are a constant source of

     the unknown, unknowable and unidentified.