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This morning I returned from the drive to school and got out of the car. A choir of sparrows and chickadees was rehearsing in a nearby tree, nearly drowning out the city-sounds filling my corner of Capitol Hill. Cars grumbled and a truck roared; a motorcycle spewed a raspberry at the skateboarders dodging potholes. A saw whined from a construction site down the street.

A flick of motion overhead caught my eye. Three gray geese skimmed the roofs across the alley as they headed south. Silent, swift, gone before I could do more than let out a breath of appreciation. Their wings sliced through cacophony with synchronized grace, leaving behind the discord.

Three Greylag Geese coming in for landing over a field in formation

I wanted to be like those geese: fast, focused, fully engaged in flight. Following where ideas led, turning aside for no interruption, stopping for nothing. For a moment that yearning cut as sharply through me as their wings had cut through the noise.

And then the day went on.

 

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