geese.

i stopped to watch a flock of geese fly by, long white necks stretched against the pale, snow-filled sky.

"strange, isn't it?" remarked a woman walking by.

"how do you mean?"

"they're flying in the wrong direction."

i can imagine a time, not so very, very long ago, when a flock of birds flying in the wrong direction, heading north in midwinter, would be met with fear and worry, a portent, an omen, a sign of terrible things to come.

things aren't as they ought to be. and yet we barely know enough to notice these strange changes.