I have watched the squirrels gather twigs for their nests. One was vigilantly chewing off thin twigs from a tree while another discovered twigs on the ground and seemed quite pleased with himself. Nature’s rhythms fascinate me, especially the migrating geese. Do they have planned stop overs? I know swallows return to the same place, do geese also have destinations they return to? Do they look around to see who made it this year and those who did not? Do the young geese ask “How much longer?” and the older ones reply “Five more minutes”?

Some days the little whispers are simply the awe of life and wonder. Mary Oliver wrote “When it’s over, I want to say: all my life I was a bride married to amazement. I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.” Some days are simply for looking, smiling, and wondering if geese have their favorite diners and rest stops. If some, like my Dad would do, keep flying even though others say “But look over there!” Some days, you just look out the window, walk around the back yard, and feel your heart sigh, “Sweet mercy, ain’t it all grand.”