Seeing migrating Canada geese always puts me in a nostalgic mood—the seasons, passage of time and cycles. Every year, no matter where I am, whether it’s morning or evening, few or many, squawking or silent, near or far, geese always conjure up an eery feeling of sameness in perpetuity. The flow of ever-changing, unstoppable time contains a note of sadness mixed with detachment and acceptance. Why? Maybe it’s the way of nature, to come or go, both are OK, neither to be celebrated nor dread...
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