I was sitting in the dining room early Saturday morning when I heard a honking and a creaking. I looked up just in time to see five geese flying overhead. They were in a line–not a V–and the right wing of each goose had caught the light of the rising sun so that it looked as if they all had dipped their wings in a pot of shimmery gold paint.
It was a grand thing to see, so early in the morning.
I wrote it down in my notebook, and writing down what I saw carved the wings and the gold and the sky a little more deeply in my heart.
It let me keep it.
And it lets me give it all to you, too–the geese and the gold and the early morning.

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