One aspect of being a writer is that one is always coming up with strange questions - not necessarily seeking an answer, but enjoying the question in all its fullness. Even the smallest anecdote can open the doors to new worlds.
Today's whimsical question, happened upon this evening as I watched (and heard) a flock of geese fly northwest in the darkening sky:
Are those geese confused about dates, or do they know something we don't about the coming of Spring?
Hmm...
I always used to tell myself they were visiting another lake for the day. That's why all the geese teenagers were honking, "I'm tired! Are we home yet? Why can't we stay at the lake cabin all the time?" Denial and delusion were some of my key winter survival strategies...
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