I was watching the geese flying south over the Zen Center. The leaves were being blown through the air by the wind. Onondaga Creek was flowing north, the geese were flying south. There was great commotion, visually and aurally. So I wanted words that captured the movement and the sound—wind, honking—and that also conveyed the feeling of a season coming to an end.
Fall's bittersweet quality is one of a brief crescendo that then dies away. Leaves are falling from the trees, birds are migrating from the area—there's a last flurry of excitement that takes place as fall deepens, before the stillness of winter.
Geese honking southward
Over Onondaga Creek—
Whirling dervish leaves
