Earlier this week I saw a crow fly away, elegantly outstretching its wings, the perfectly engineered curve that makes flight possible disappearing in front of me. Tonight I was in the backyard with Frank. I could hear the muffled murmur of what sounded like far away whining dogs.
The sound moved closer and became more defined. You would recognize it as the sound of Canadian Geese. I looked up into the night sky, twinkling with stars and a crescent moon and saw them. A gigantic V formation illuminated and glowing powdery silver white in the moonlight, flickering. I watched them until they dissolved into the blackness. It was beautiful, magical, the wonder of the flight.
