February 8, 2017
“The sound of geese in the distance,
in our minds
we rise up
and move on.”
— Robert Sund, “Spring Poem in the Skagit Valley”
“Wild Geese Alighting on a Lake”
by Anne Porter, from Living Things
I watched them
As they neared the lake
In a wide arc
With beating wings
They put their wings to sleep
And glided downward in a drift
Of pure abandonment
Until they touched
The surface of the lake
Composed their wings
On the rippling water
As though it were a nest.
“Wild geese fly overhead.
They wrench my heart.
They were our friends in the old days.”
— Li Ch’ing Chao, translated by Kenneth Rexroth
I didn’t have much luck photographing snow geese on my most recent visits to the Skagit Valley. I saw only a couple of flocks, and they were in distant fields. I could not drive closer. I love to witness big flocks taking to the skies, whirling around, and settling again. How do they swarm and yet not run into each other? I am always reminded of M.C Escher’s prints of birds:
In past years, I’ve gotten closer and came away with some photos that captured the breathtaking whirlwind of wings. One of my snow geese photos was chosen for the cover of Bearings Magazine‘s Autumn 2016 issue (it’s a publication of the Collegeville Institute in Minnesota).
November 26, 2016
The Wild Geese
by Wendell Berry
Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.
November 13, 2016
October 31, 2016
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
Are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
October 12, 2013
The annual migration of snow geese to their winter feeding grounds in the Skagit Valley is in full swing. I am always thrilled when my visits to the Skagit Valley coincide with the snow geese’s feeding schedule. I saw these birds settled in a field along the road on Fir Island, which is best reached via the Conway exit off of I-5.
by Valerie Worth, from All the Small Poems and Fourteen More
October 23, 2012
“Birds are the life of the skies, and when they fly, they reveal the thoughts of the sky.”
— D. H. Lawrence, Birds, Beasts, and Flowers
The first snow geese are starting to return to the Skagit Valley, which is their winter feeding ground. These vast animal migrations are a wonder and a mystery. What strong, inner forces urge them to leave home for another so far away? Do they understand their restlessness and the force that propels them? It’s awe-some for me to be in the presence of such instinctual behavior.
February 11, 2012
Winter offers its own pleasures in the rural Skagit Valley, a one-hour drive north of Seattle. We were on the lookout for trumpeter swans and snow geese on our most recent trip. We saw the birds, but they had settled to feed some distance from the road. It’s always awesome to see and hear the great flocks in flight, even if they were too far away for good photos.