I saw my first formation flying the wrong way this morning.
It isn’t the wrong way for them of course because they are flying south to a warmer climate.
It is the wrong way for me.
Even more than the calendar or the cooler temperatures, the geese are the harbinger of fall for me. I know when I see my first gaggle flying away honking their “goodbye upstate New York! Enjoy the snow up to your eyeballs” song that I’ll soon be trucking my sweaters to the dry cleaners.
I don’t mind Fall. In fact, I rather enjoy the cooler days and the nights sleeping with the windows open. I love the colors and Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. I like the extra fat hiding sweater layer and the cider donut excuse that I’m “putting on hibernation weight”.
What I do not love is that fall is the harbinger of that “w” word that I don’t say out loud.
( Like the name Beetlejuice I’m afraid if I say it three times it will come early).
The “w” word that brings sleet, ice and snow that won’t quit. Didn’t it just end a blink ago? How did we get to geese flying the wrong way already?
So if you happen to look out your window and see a crazed woman running down the street under a gaggle of south flying geese yelling “come back you sonsabitches! I’m not ready yet!”, it might be me.
Just throw a cider donut at me to distract me.
I guess I’ll spend some time today digging out my sweaters.
sorry ; [