I'm originally an East Coast girl. Since I came here, to the Midwest, I've never really settled in and I dearly miss my Atlantic Ocean, Delaware River, and all of the other bays, inlets, streams, creeks, ponds, waterfalls, channels, and sounds of the wet shores several states to the east of where I currently reside.
Last week I heard a familiar sound. This week I heard it again. The sound seemed out of place, out of order somehow. It was the sound of geese flying south for the winter, you know, that "honking" sounds they make to one another while flying in "V" formation.
So, in the six years since I've been here, this was the first time I've heard the geese fly overhead. Lying in bed and hearing that honking is a gift. It stirred up the memories of how I use to spend time outdoors, unlike here. We used to go for walks, visit gardens and arboretums; sit by the river, walk on the beach, have mini-hikes on mountain trails, etc.
I remember standing alone outside in the dark and the cold waiting to see meteor showers. Sometimes the cloud cover would disappoint my effort to stay awake and warm to wait and wait for the meteors, and to give up eventually.
Or, one night just before coming into the house, my Mom was opening the door for me and said to look at the sky. We were treated to the Northern Lights- Aurora Borealis, delicate pastels flickering and pulsating to a foreign rhythm, teasing and delighting in the same moment.
Another time, Haley's Comet returned and wouldn't be back again for what is it, 150 years or so, I'm not sure. We went out into the street and looked up and it was tiny, but we were able to watch it, it was amazing.
And again, there I was standing in the backyard in the pitch black night with birds and bats flying at me while I watched the biggest meteor shower I had ever seen. I was dizzy from turning and looking at the stars fizzling out- some mere flickers and others sparklers millions of miles away, almost within my arm's reach, everywhere flying by except for under my feet and I had the privilege of being there.
(Photo by audreyjm529 on everystockphoto.com.)