A glancing moment

Autumn is my favorite season.

This morning I heard the geese calling.  Not an unusual event, since I live a block away from a lake and often hear a pair of geese flying over and honking away as if to say, "Here we come, make way for geese!"

But this morning the honking was more insistent and gradually I became aware that there were more than a few geese overhead, so I went out to my deck and looked up.

The sun was glancing off the breasts of hundreds of geese, in so many different Vees that I could not tell where one began and another ended. Yet, they seemed to know exactly what they were doing.

They curved in and over the lakes then back around and over me, following some invisible current of air I could not see.

It was an extraordinary moment, sunlight pooling around bronze leafed trees, golden breasted geese flying overhead -- like a scene from Krishna's garden.

I stood there listening and watching until there wasn't a single goose to be heard. Then realized what a let down I was experiencing as the world returned to normal.  A subtle shift returned the day to me without the magic of the previous moments.

And yet, it is mine forever, a glimpse of eternity manifesting in my own backyard, the splendor of ages that never changes, but is seldom seen.

And I am profoundly grateful.