Tag Archives: Geese


Tooele T crop1

Fall.  It has come early.  I bask in cool breezes, comforting after Summer’s heat, but knowing, also, that Winter will too soon chase its way in.  This mountain between Middle Canyon and Pine Canyon in the Oquirrh range of the Rockies sports the yellow leaves of Quaking Aspen trees, the reds of Gambel Oaks, and the evergreen Junipers, Pines, and Spruces.  I snapped this picture from the roof of City Hall, knowing I might need forgiveness after failing to ask permission–I just couldn’t resist.  Note the white “T” plastered on the mountain, for Tooele (too-i’-la) high school.


Fall has become
in my advancing years
a sweet season
sending forth
a settling sense
of things slowing down
preparing to rest
under white blankets
that warm and moisten
against year’s end.
Nights are cool
and days are sunny and cool.
Rows of dry corn
sheaves rasp each other
in the evening air.
Geese wave
a noisy farewell
overhead on their way away.
Greens melt
to candy yellows and reds
smelling earthy sweet
drifting down to become
the richness in the soil
where sleeping segos and tapertips
wait for Spring.

Chapter 34: Of Ducks and Geese

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–Away I must fly.–

From over a hundred yards away, I hear the enormous sound of what surely is a hundred geese cackling in loud cacophony.  I cannot see them in the pre-dawn darkness.  But in the growing light of my return walk, I make out the small gaggle of only a dozen very loud domesticated white geese as it mills under the venerable Cottonwood in Craig’s pasture, making its only-as-a-goose-can-do honking. Continue reading