Of Morning Walks in the Spring Interrupted by Nature

We took our usual morning walk today, Baron and me. An elderly couple passed by. He wore a red flannel jacket, plaid, that hung a bit askew. My guess is that he's been wearing that coat since the Christmas of '89.  She was clad in a sensible navy parka that set off her short-cropped silver hair.  Hand-in-hand they were.

"What a comfortable couple," I said to Baron as we watched them proceed up the street.  Baron thought so too, as evidenced by his wide Black Labradorian toothy grin. Baron is a very agreeable walking companion indeed!

Just as Baron was about to tell me his thoughts about this couple and the mildness of the morning and the fact that the lavender azaleas are in bloom; he was interrupted by a such a hullaballoo, such a squawking ruckus from above that all of us, the gent in his flannel coat, his wife of many years, myself and Baron too, were compelled to look above. A gaggle of geese, Canadian honkers in classic V-formation glided past. It seemed as though all 50 or so of them had different thoughts about which direction they should go...and they weren't at all shy to tell their leader so! Funny how such a graceful sight as geese on the wing can at the same time be such a wild commotion.

We stood there for a moment, Baron and I and the couple, gazing at the geese as they winged their way to parts unknown. "Maybe they're going to the fallow corn fields by the bay," I commented to my dog. He wasn't sure but wagged his tail all the same.

And the geese were gone. Passing through our morning like a thought we forgot to say.

And so we continued on, Baron and I and the couple in their coats. And so we continued on.

 

Have a plaid-red-flannel kind of weekend, my friends!

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