A string of cranes dancing through the sky, like birthday decorating gone adrift. While noisily announcing spring, they glide further and further away, until they are mere dots on the horizon. I stop in the middle of the street, momentarily forgetting about life hurrying past; amazed by their sudden appearance, delighted as a child.
They’re going home; sailing like great feathery ships towards they place they left months ago. Gliding over rivers and creeks, pastures and meadows. I stare up into the sky, greet them with a smile, applaud them for their bravery and fail to tell them the weatherman predicted snow in the days to come.