It was a moment that struck me as picturesque. The newly harvested field of corn seem to blend into their gray colored feathers. The only contrast was the black bands around their necks. They were standing perfectly still. This in a field that was a bounty for the flock standing at attention.
I expected to see them bow their heads and begin feeding on the loose kernels of corn, but instead, they were like soldiers outside Buckingham Palace; erect and still as statues. What was their focus of vigilance? It was curious.
For me, scenery with geese was nothing out of the ordinary, but I am at a loss as to understand this concrete like behavior. They just stood there facing toward the east.
After 40 minutes or so, another flock of geese began to circle overhead. Their cries and calls seem to stir the statues in the field. Both the statues and the fliers called back and forth until the arriving band landed on the pond behind the field. They all began to stir. Those on the pond first and then those in the field began to move and shift into a preflight mode.
In a few minutes, all rose from the earth and circled the pond and field a couple of times. With an unseen signal or a specific cry was sounded and they were off. The lot of them were flying in a predetermined direction. I watched until they were no longer in sight. I was spellbound.
Awestruck by their percision and the timing of the gathering of the flock, I stood amazed by the way they waited on the others to arrive. How did they know that this smaller band was coming?
As an afterthought, I realized, for a moment in time, my thoughts of sadness and loss were suspended to observe one of God’s wonders. 
I am sure there are those who know much more about the habits and migration of geese than I, but this was so curious to me.
As I contemplated the autumn scene, I wondered as to why they were still here?
Everyone, even humans, know that the days of ice, snow and unrelenting cold are about to descend upon us, so why are these geese waiting? How did they know to wait for the smaller band of travelers? Why were they not south already? Why were they so still and facing east? So many questions about what I witnessed and no answers, but I don’t know if I really want answers. I was lost in wonder.
The first thing to capture my attention was, while standing in a field filled with food, the total lack of motion by these large birds. I was astounded; not a ruffle of a feather or a bob of their head. How can any living creature stay that still and silent for 45 minutes?
But, the greater mystery is how were they able to capture my attention and distract me from my constant feeling of loss? For those 45 minutes, I was transported from my loneliness and dread over the approaching holiday season to an attentive observer of that present moment.
After the geese were gone for a while, i realized that I appreciated those minutes of wonder. I became aware that I found relief from my grief. Because of my curiosity over the behavior of 20-50 geese in a newly harvested field of Indiana, I was mesmerized by the curiosity of the moment.
I think that I saw a glimpse of clearing in the fog of grief in those 45 minutes. I needed the reprieve and comfort while I pondered a mystery that was before me. It gave me hope. Hope that I will begin finding my way out of these continual shadows that live in my heart…
Leave it to God and His creation to fascinate me! I have always been entranced by the outdoor “Cathedrals” I find in his Creation. I have thrilled to the Majesty of the Red Rocks of Sedona Arizona and I marveled at the wildlife in the wilderness of Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan, Canada. These were my heart felt places of worship.
Just as it was here where my teenage heart called out to God with the intent on knowing Him. Now, I may again, walk pastures and fields in open conversation. I know that He will meet me here. This is where I first opened my heart and my mouth and walked and talked with my God. It was in His Creation, not a man made building, that my awestruck heart came to know true worship.
Maybe, it will be as it was then. Maybe it will be in this place of security and familiarity I will be able to call out to my Creator, my Lord and Savior and end this silence between us. Maybe, it will be in the midst of these woods that I will lift my voice in keening of my mourning and finally give my inner pain back to the One who holds our sorrows?
I know that My God and Creator can do nothing until I am willing to release this pain. It is not His lacking, but my unwillingness to let go.
In a strange way, I may be afraid that I will lose
the final part of my husband that I carry inside of me. This pain is one of the few things that exists that is shared by our hearts. Yet, I know that my husband would never want me to keep company with him through sorrow. He loved me too much to have me stay this hurt.
As with geese who mate for life, I too must make a choice as whether to stay with my fallen mate or leave for the life-giving horizons.
Somehow, I realize that I have stood perfectly still while waiting for him to somehow join me again so that we may continue our flight together. Now, it is the changing of season and I must either stay by his lifeless body and eventually die, or I must join the others who are flying to a new destination…
I suspose I could do a little online research and become more knowledgeable of the habits of geese, but somehow, I don’t want to spoil this learning observation that I received from the Heart of Creation.
Maybe, it is a beginning of a sunrise out of this long sunset and night that I have been living. Maybe, it is a little wind beneath my wings.
Filed under: God, bereavement, cancer, comfort, death, faith, healing, hope, journey, lonliness, musings, shadows, sorrow, sunsets
Shadowlands, this post is exemplary of your ability to weave a story from visual metaphor produced by particular words in descriptions, using similes without the use of like and eloquent thoughts that tie content together. Other than that, it is truly a testament of where you are right now, knowledgeable of where you must go and reluctant to leave where you have been.
I agree, don’t look up geese, just let this natural wonder amaze you and act as a balm to your heart felt injuries.
And, I think you may be at the point of day’s first light. I think that not only God is two steps to your rear, I think your husband’s spirit accompanies you as you move forward these days.
Thank you for a wonderful post.
Frank
God reaches out to us in the most amazing ways sometimes. I think He realizes that our hearts and minds can’t hear his voice in traditional ways when we are grieving and He manages to make the beauty of His creation sing to our saddened souls. I love your description. I hope the geese, and the rest of God’s incredible handiwork, breathe healing into you.
Just an inspiring post for all of us. Such an interesting observation on the behavior of the geese.
And I also imagined those who have gone before us, standing still, waiting, knowing that we are coming to join them, to soar on the heights of heaven.
Your reflections of the metaphor of your grief are astoundingly poignant. God speaks to us through His amazing creation, and we hear, and understand. And every message is unique and individual. I pray that this will be the beginning of many such moments, in the midst of your deep grief, when God speaks to you a message of hope and life.
Many Hugs-Sparkle
Just as we think the fog of grief will never lift there comes a soft breeze that blows the clouds away and that first tiny ray of sunshine peeps through. Just as that tiny ray will turn to the brightest sunlight, so the grief you feel now will be overtaken by God’s Son Light. This was a beautiful example of His mercy and love for you. Bless your heart.
Thanks you, all for your comments.
Frank, you are so kind and I value your comments on my writing. I know if I ever wrote a book, I could count on one person, you, to buy it.
Stephanie,
It is so like God to speak to my heart through His creation. I hear those heart messages much clearer than any sermon or music. I am lost in His Imagination.
Sparkle,
I appreciate all your prayers and all of those who remember me to the Father. I have the confidence that, even though I may be silent in my voice with him, others are praying in my stead.
Steppinthru,
Thanks for you comments. I am looking forward to the day that this fog lifts and I can see clearly that this pain is for my good and not my ill…it will take time, but I do have assurance that my faith in the One who can create such wonders truly knows my heart.
Thanks again to all of you.
Shadowlands
This is one of my all-time favorite poems:
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
Wendell Berry
So, true, Jonas, so true…..I do find peace in Creation.