Geese are still flying north, but tonight they didn't start until after it was too dark to see them. It was clear and sunny all day here, but a blanket of fog, all white seen from this elevation, covered the valley. Maybe the geese are just trying to get away from the fog. Tonight there is a crescent moon, already fairly bright. It must be enjoyable to fly by moonlight and see the forest glinting below, especially after spending a day in grayness. But I can only imagine. I'm earthbound, and my grayness persists even through the brightest days. My foggy perception is something I can't fly from. I see the stars outside it, but only see them. Most of their light has gone elsewhere. Maybe there are some who can see it flicked from the flapping wings of the geese. I am not among them.
The Best of It
by Kay Ryan
However carved up or pared down we get, we keep on making the best of it as though it doesn't matter that our acre's down to a square foot. As though our garden could be one bean and we'd rejoice if it flourishes, as though one bean could nourish us.