I am not a nature freak. Even when i canoe i want town breaks every two days. Something about the power and majesty that overwhelms me. But i do get to see my share in the city . Sometimes it is rodents. Gophers, Squirrels, that sort of thing but it is mostly birds. It does provide a respite.
I walked to church earlier that morning. I saw ravens, crows and gulls. Tough birds. Ones willing to live on the refuge we make as urban dwellers. They are loud and obvious. The crow has been so common of late it no longer seems a harbinger. You can see how the sleek blackness scared people once. But now it seems to be a rubbish bird. A slimmer cousin to the awkward squalling gull.
Gulls were my first indicator of the cruelty of my fellow humans. Camping when i was 7 i saw a gull death spiraling . I rushed over to the bird wondering what could cause this. As i saw its body in agony. Someone had shot it with an arrow. The hunter maybe two years older then me came to the same place soon after. I sputtered accusations, then fled to my mothers comfort.
I wrote and read on a rock by the river after church. I saw this white fluttering. It was disguised by the kelly green poplars. I was too far away and it was too silent. It seemed like when i was 9 and canoeing with my father . We saw 4 pelicans on the Pembina River. A place where pelicans did not usually gather. These looked like swans. I was sure they were not.
Last night at 2 in the morning i was getting infuriated with myself . I was not sleeping, . I was dicking around on the computer, trying to arrange a million things and not succeeding on any of them . I then heard this ghostly honking sound . I rushed outside. It was dark, the moon was invisible. The street lights were blinding. But i saw them. Maybe three dozen geese flying in that elegant and efficient V.