rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Night Flight

Geese and nighthawks and owls (oh my!) The rain dripped for hours, then slowed, and the clouds began to part. The moon had already set, but swaths of stars appeared as a rising breeze, chilly yet soft, stirred the pines. I heard the owls hooting, first from one direction, then another. A passing hawk's call sounded, as clear and cold as the opening sky. Then a large flock of geese flew over, their exuberant honks reminding me of a procession of cars following a bride and groom. A sudden image came to my mind of a particular moment when I was perhaps five or six years old- the first wedding I ever attended.

I don't remember any names but those of the bride's parents, Rose and Dan. I see the line of cars ahead, glinting in bright sunlight, hear the honking horns, see passersby on the sidewalk turn and look, smiling at strangers. There was a room full of music, and there was colorful cake on paper plates and a huge punch bowl, and then there was a small package of rice tied with a ribbon, which I didn't open but stuck in my pocket. I don't remember what became of it. Fragments. It seems an odd scene to be conjured by a passing flock of geese on this cold, moonless night, and so distant. As the sound of the geese fades northward, I wonder what became of the people I saw that day. I can't now make out their faces, any more than I could see the loud geese high in the dark sky. The hawk gone, and the geese, only the hooting of the owls continues to punctuate the shivering of the trees.
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