Having returned my rental car, I am again limited to the distance just my two feet, my bike and public transportation can carry me.
All of which I am grateful for, but am missing feeling the freedom having a car affords...
While the Internet reported rain here all weekend, on the contrary, it was the most beautiful weekend (at least weather wise) so far. I set out on a bike ride along the waterfront path – destination, Oakledge Park in South Burlington. I arrived to a lovely sandy beach, families’ barbequing and a child’s birthday party going in full force. Grimacing at their obnoxious presence, I quickly locked up my bike and set out to find a nice, quiet spot far away from the bouncy house fun. Much to my surprise, it wasn’t hard to do. The path gave way to a wooded area and upon further exploration, I found large rock slabs that jutted out into Lake Champlain. The water lapped against the rocks eliminating any background noises coming from the park or it’s visitors. Having found my spot, I settled in for a lovely afternoon of reading and sunbathing.
For the rest of the afternoon my only distraction was the honking of a flock of geese preparing the head south to their winter accommodations. The flock took flight, but quickly separated out into small groups, singles and some larger groups, only to return moments later to the lake. It was as if the group was off reading wind gusts and plotting the easiest route for their journey south.
The chapter ended and I decided to take a little break. I briefly closed my eyes to feel the sun on my face when in quick bursts, something blocked the rays of sunshine from reaching me, creating eerie dark shadows. As I opened my eyes to determine the culprit, I discovered the flock of geese where flying directly above me. They had found their “super highway” in the air and now, all together were traveling on to their next destination.
In the past, I have seen tons of geese, but never had the experience of them flying directly above me. It was exhilarating! They were such a massive group and so loud as they made their way south. I sat with my excitement for them, for where they were going and wished them well on their trip. Inspired, I returned to my book and eventually headed home.
I have thought about my experience with the geese often over the past few days and even felt moved to share it with a couple of people in my life who know, and maybe even share my interest/fascination with the animal world. Words haven’t been able to describe my experience that day, until I found (or it found me) today:
"How do the geese know when
to fly to the sun? Who tells them
the seasons? How do we, humans,
know when it is time to move on? As
with the migrant birds, so surely with us,
there is a voice within, if only we would
listen to it, that tells us so certainly
when to go forth into the unknown."
— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
I like to think that I share this inner compass with the geese and that is was that inner voice that told me it was time to leave San Francisco, not forever, but for a little while… To go forth into the unknown of Vermont, only to return with tales of my adventure and lessons learned along the way.
I am so grateful for this inner compass as it lead me to Wisconsin for school and friendship, to Spain for adventure and travel, to Madison for love and heartbreak, to Northern California to find myself and revel in nature’s beauty, to Seattle to relax and renew, and now this latest adventure to Vermont which is still making its lessons known.
It feels great to have connected to the cycles and rhythms of nature and makes me feel better about not having found my mountain man, yet. And when that time arrives, I hope he likes to travel and explore because I am almost always on the move and making a lot of noise as I do it… J
