Tundra Swans, migrating to Canada, hundreds of theses graceful birds stopping by to rest outside of Fall Creek, Wisconsin. I stopped along Highway 12, a country byway that will get me from my farm to my office in Eau Claire. Afraid to frighten them, I stayed in my car....rolled down the window and watched. It was poetry...still snow around the "ponds" they had found in the farm fields, misty rain, gray skies...it was poetry. The kind of picture you know will be painted forevermore in your heart, the kind that brings tears to your eyes with the pure beauty. And I sat, letting the clock tick, letting the office wait, watching, reading the words of this unwritten poem over & over. I saw the swans. I was surprised that no one else stopped, only one other car slowed. They couldn't or wouldn't see. The clock pushed them forward, the rain blurred their vision. "Look", I wanted to say....look at what you are missing. The swans are here for but a day or two. I saw the swans and their poetry. They were hidden in the mist.
3 comments:
I have found a kindred spirit in you. I love your story of the swans. Several years ago, in the fall, I was leaving church. And since I am very in tune with the sounds of nature,I heard something different that made me stop in my tracks. I looked to the south, to the ridge, and high above that ridge there were hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of Sand Hill Cranes making their migration south. There were countless groups coming together to form this huge cloud of cranes so they could travel together. I was so excited and amazed. I kept pointing them out to the church members in an exuberant voice. They just casually glanced to the general area and said in a condescending tone, "oh, yes, I see" or they couldn't see them at all. I was so exasperated. I just kept pointing, I wanted these folks to be caught up in the beauty and awesomeness of the moment. They weren't the slight bit interested. My heart fell.
There was a time as well, when my husband attended seminary in Dubuque, IA. We were heading in to Wednesday chapel with a communion service. It was an achingly beautiful spring day. I said to one of the professors who was walking at my side that we should really be holding the service outside that day. He looked aghast at me and said that would be like pagan worship. WHAT???!!!??? At that moment I questioned where my spirituality resided.
So my heart is full to know that you stopped, let the world rush by and enjoyed the real beauty of our Creator. Bless you!
Hi Kari, lovely story, I love the swans too....My heart is happy seeing and hearing them for that special moment....Blessings Francine.
I cannot even imagine the beauty. I get so excited when the geese fly over. Thanks for sharing the moment.
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