While walking across an Iowa parking lot Christmas Eve (and feeling a little homesick for the Canadian north) I heard them....that distinctive honking, high up in the cold gray sky. Rhythmic, excited...unmistakenly aching and haunting.
I stopped on the spot, turned, scanning the sky. Then I saw them - that unmistable flying "V" - coming in from the northeast.
I laughed, and suddenly my heart felt as light as air. The air beneath their wings.
"Look at you guys...you're beautiful..." I whispered, to myself.

Then I stood at attention, and saluted - as they sailed overhead.

I watched them disappear over the flat Iowa horizon, then went about my business with a glad heart.

The next morning, when I opened my eyes....

I was among them. I could hardly believe how effortless it was, to fly in formation. It took a little getting used to...the ground so far blow. Strangely, I felt no shock at the situation I found myself in. Somehow, it felt like a completely natural transformation - that somehow it just made sense. As I flew on with the flock, I wondered to myself for just a moment...had I died? And been reincarnated as a goose?

For some reason, I felt no remorse at that thought. It seemed to me I was supposed to feel that way...but I just didn't.
Nothing at all mattered, except keeping up with the flock, which was almost effortless.
I began to wonder where we were going. I was glad to be going there, wherever it happened to be.
I honked.
If a goose is capable of smiling - I smiled.