Geese. This specific obsession I share with my mother. I remember the time we were driving down the road (more than likely a two-lane, no-shoulder death course), and a gaggle of geese were flying overhead. She, who was driving, completely took her eyes off the road and said, "Ooooh, are they precious?" And for a quarter-mile, she kept whirling around in the driver's seat to get a better view of them working on their V formation. We very well could've met our ultimate demise on a Kentucky highway that day. Just because of geese.
As I walked beside the Lutheran church this morning on my way to class, hundreds of flapping specks in the sky caught my eye. They were organized in probably twelve Vs. I stopped right where I was and looked up at them with my hands stuffed in my hoodie pocket. I watched until they had rearranged themselves so gracefully into two large Vs. I just now realized that I hadn't heard them honking. They just silently glided into formation.
I went ahead and started walking toward the crosswalk at Main Street, and the line "birds are leavin' over autumn's endin'" floated through my head. It sure was cold, even in my hoodie, I thought, and I hoped that the autumn that had just began wasn't already over, which is just its style. But I, with hardly any sense of direction, compared their flight course to the north and south of 641, and they weren't exactly heading south. Before I crossed Main, I looked back over my shoulder to catch another glimpse of the geese, but they were gone.