Flight of the Soul

The old gander lifted his head. Around him his family were feeding on the short grass of an Orkney field. It was still. For 3 days a force 9 gale had blasted itself over the low lying islands. But the geese were tough. They were here because here conditions were better than in Greenland where by now the ground was white and frozen.

They had waited patiently for a north westerly air stream to help their muscles make the flight, the same wind that had blasted the land had carried them forward over the stormy north Atlantic but it had tired them. Now they needed to feed up and replace their fat reserves. Who knows, if the weather worsened, they might have to fly south to the Solway or even further.

The gander was extra anxious. He knew that in weather conditions this still, it would be harder for his family to take flight at danger; without the lift of the wind they had to work harder to lift their bodies into the air. From time to time his mate watched in turn, while he ate, teething the grass from in front of his feet. They were seven, four youngsters from this year’s brood the gander and his mate and a yearling from last year.

Their ancestors had flown this migration for thousands of years - before man even. Hearts beating over the ocean driven by instinct and knowledge.

On the Orkney Islands, where there were no foxes weasels or stoats, the threat to the geese was confined to man.

The gander scanned the field edges to front, side and rear for signs of the upright creature.

But it was cunning, and lay concealed in hides made of straw bales placed around the field.

These were not Neolithic men driven by the

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Texte: alastair macleod
Bildmaterialien: alastair macleod: "greylag goose taking off " dreamstime royalty free photos
Lektorat: alastair macleod
Übersetzung: cover type set in goodfish
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 15.09.2013
ISBN: 978-3-7309-4955-9

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Widmung:
to the wild geese; "The ancients said the geese are the spirits of our long dead ancestors from deep time. Each year they return from the otherworld in the autumn to comfort us in our loss, then leave in the spring. Here, in the energy and life in those birds is a message from nature, the one we long for. The message says “I, summer, will return”.