Usually I hear the phrase Wild Geese and I think of Mary Oliver … or Joni Mitchell’s Urge for Going. (The version below doesn’t include the relevant line for my purposes today. It goes … “See the geese in chevron flight flapping and a-racing on before the snow// They’ve got the urge for going, and they’ve got the wings so they can go.”) I’ll see if I can find it and add it in later!
But now I have a new poem … one from The Writer’s Almanac that I liked especially for today … as we celebrate the Beeg’s B-day (and a cowbird perches on the tippy top branch of the swaying crabapple outside my window)!
I’m picking beans when the geese fly over, Blue Lake pole
beans I figure to blanch and freeze. Maybe pick some dilly beans.
And there will be more beans to give to the neighbors, forcibly if
The geese come over so low I can hear their wings creak, can
see their tail feathers making fine adjustments. They slip-stream along
so gracefully, riding on each other’s wind, surfing the sky. Maybe
after the harvest I’ll head south. Somebody told me Puerto Vallarta is
nice. I’d be happy with a cheap room. Rice and beans at every meal.
Swim a little, lay on the beach.
Who are you kidding, Charles? You don’t like to leave home
in the winter. Spring, fall, or summer either. True. But I do love to
watch those wild geese fly over, feel these impertinent desires glide
through me. Then get back to work.
Beeg … may you enjoy your day … work, impertinent desires … every last bit of it!
Okay … here’s a cover version … with scrolling lyrics, no less. Haunting song, this!