Taking Refuge

Ross’s geese

It was my traditional first journey of the season, my annual solo trip in winter to witness one of the world’s great migrations of birds. The rain was heavy as I slowly moved my car along the muddy auto route at Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge, in search of this year’s initial sightings of some of the two million geese, ducks, and other birds who travel from Alaska and Canada to spend the winter in California’s Central Valley. Mine was the only vehicle.

The frigid wind was so strong that the shallow ponds, just a few inches deep, had waves on them. The ducks of many species huddled in the reeds as a windbreak, barely visible. I saw just a handful of the geese this time that are often here by the thousands. Where were they?

Eager not to miss their fly-off at dusk with the sound of thousands of wings beating together at once, I headed north on the rural back roads, passing miles of flooded rice fields post-harvest, scanning in all directions. And there they were—snow geese.

I parked on the shoulder. The wind and the rain pelting the roof and windshield this time were blasting from the other side of the car, so I could roll down the windows adjacent to the field. This sound is everything, and I bundle in warm layers so I can turn off the engine with the windows down. I listened to the chorus of countless white geese. Tears filled my eyes in the company of such beauty, again. And in a great whir of wings as the light faded, family groups took off to feed for the night.

It is this moment, this silent witnessing of yet another miracle of nature, that comes to mind now when I think of my year away from this blog. It has been a time of change and reflection, a time of looking inward, of maintaining equanimity during this difficult time in the world.

I’m returning to share my photos and musings on this blog. I’m touched that some of you noticed my absence and reached out in concern. I’m in good spirits.

As always, I welcome your feedback in the comments.