I was walking home through the twilight woods after a satisfying ramble when, faintly and far above me, I heard the voices of wild Canadian geese. I looked up, up, up through the canyon of tree trunks and saw, from my blue tinted world, the geese flying in the familiar wedge formation, heading south.
As I watched the geese, so free, so wild, I felt a tugging on my heart, a yearning in my soul, to leave, to just get in my car or on a plane and go away from everything familiar and known. I am a child of Autumn, after all, and what is Autumn but change? I feel this way every year when the leaves start to turn colors and the wind whispers to me of faraway lands I have yet to see, whose spirits I have not met, whose people I have never spoken with.
My wanderer's heart finds it hard to resist and in the past I have sometimes followed the seductive whispering of the wind...but not this year. This year I will stay.
But maybe next year...