As I look over the hills around my house I see that most of the trees have changed from the summer-time green to the beautiful oranges, reds and yellows of autumn, my favorite season. It makes me sad to think that soon the leaves will fall and winter will be here.
Suddenly, as if by an imaginary conductor, the chorus of birds stop their sounds and for a few seconds it is silent. But the chorus quickly starts up again and the moment of peace is gone.
In the distance I hear geese, and I listen to them for a few minutes, until I see them come over and hill and fly toward me in their V. I count them as they fly directly my head; there were at least 25 of them calling to each other.
After the geese are past, I listen again to the birds in the trees by our creek, calling to each other and gather to prepare to migrate in a short time.
As I gather up my things and prepare to leave my hay bale seat, I keep alert and watch for a group of deer that come through here routinely. But it looks like I will not see them tonight.
