I stood in the shadows of the Pentagon this afternoon studying a gaggle of Canada geese on a creek that leads to the Potomac River. The group that had gathered was large and loud. Every few minutes five or six would take off and fly above the others. Takeoff was preceded by a few honks and the splashes of webbed feet as wings beat feverishly to help their large bodies gain altitude. Four geese floated at the head of the flock and honked in appreciation as each small subset took off above them. I stood entranced with the movement and communication I witnessed. If there was any sort of order to the exodus I certainly didn’t know about it. Within ten minutes the last of the gaggle was gone and I walked back to my car smiling as I thought of the impressively choreographed show that I had witnessed.
It must have been beautiful. But remember my grandmother and the goose attack--just don't get too close.
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