<div dir="ltr">Sadly Sam, they found no respite. They flew doggedly on till their precious little hearts gave out and they fell from<div>the sky, salty goose tears streaming down their forlorn feathery faces. The last goose refuge is no more.</div><div><br></div><div>A moment of silence while I cue up a mournful bagpipe rendition of "Oh Canada."</div><div><br></div><div>g</div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr">On Fri, Nov 30, 2018 at 1:28 PM Sam Scripter <<a href="mailto:moscowsam@charter.net">moscowsam@charter.net</a>> wrote:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex"><div><p><font color="#000000">A sad story, indeed, Roger. Surely, I visualize from your description.</font></p>
<p><font color="#000000">I wonder where they found rest from their journey?</font></p>
<p><font color="#000000">Sam S</font></p>
<br><br><p>Via InoMail on <font color="#000000">Moto Android</font></p>
<br><br><br>-------- Original Message --------<br>November 30, 2018 11:18:07 AM HST, "<a href="mailto:rhayes@frontier.com" target="_blank">rhayes@frontier.com</a>" <<a href="mailto:rhayes@frontier.com" target="_blank">rhayes@frontier.com</a>> wrote:<br><br><div class="m_3020394764752898047inomail_quote"><blockquote class="m_3020394764752898047inomail_quote" style="margin:0pt 0pt 0pt 0.2ex;border-left:1px solid rgb(204,204,204);padding-left:0.8ex">
<div><div class="m_3020394764752898047ydpa7febdf3yahoo-style-wrap" style="font-family:Helvetica Neue,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;font-size:16px"><span><div class="m_3020394764752898047ydp9f0600acyiv0442043753ydp9e0894b6yahoo-style-wrap" style="text-align:left;color:rgb(38,40,42);text-transform:none;text-indent:0px;letter-spacing:normal;font-family:Helvetica Neue,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;font-size:16px;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;font-weight:400;text-decoration:none;word-spacing:0px;white-space:normal;background-color:transparent">This is not a happy story. I was walking the dog at Mt View when several hundred migrating geese flew in from the north. They were low so I could hear the whistling of their wings as they passed. For generations, or as long as I have been here (1/2 a century), they land every late fall in the field just east of the park. It's kind of a semi-wet land where they glean and hunker down for a spell and rest. Well, they circled the area a couple of times looking down on earth movers, back hoes, and dump trucks ripping up the ground, then the leaders turned south, the rest following. </div><div class="m_3020394764752898047ydp9f0600acyiv0442043753ydp9e0894b6yahoo-style-wrap" style="text-align:left;color:rgb(38,40,42);text-transform:none;text-indent:0px;letter-spacing:normal;font-family:Helvetica Neue,Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;font-size:16px;font-style:normal;font-variant:normal;font-weight:400;text-decoration:none;word-spacing:0px;white-space:normal;background-color:transparent">I have always enjoyed watching them gather in that field calling down others to join them as new flocks pass. I usually don't anthropomorphize, but I think they might have been sad. For sure I was for them. This would have been a wonderful Trail family legacy to bequeath that land to Moscow Parks. Gone now. And the creek is just flowing mud from the run-off. </div></span><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br></div></div></blockquote></div></div>
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