From The House of Edward

Gratitude

It’s happened twice this week. On our evening walk, just as the heavy day was sleepily handing itself over to the soft golden night, on the wind, we could hear them coming. Far off yet, but distinct, the strange, celestial sound of the geese. Getting closer, ever closer, until the leader topped the tallest trees followed by the entire glorious flock in flawless formation, calling lustily to each other with glee. Transfixed by the sight and the sound of them, Edward and I stopped to gaze upward. Edward’s brown eyes watched them fly, appearing to silently recognize a holy affiliation with these wondrous creatures at which I, clad in my wardrobe of human imperfection, could only guess. Not for the first time, I marveled at how truly little we know, how small we really are, and how dark indeed is the glass through which we see. The beautiful mystery that is all around us, seen and unseen, must be infinite.

Edward looked up at me and smiled. We walked on. I felt only gratitude.

“....Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”

by Mary Oliver from her poem “Wild Geese”