A few nights ago I got up to the let the dog out. It was about 1:30 in the morning. It was cool but calm. As I watched the dog head into the backyard and was about to close the door, I heard a sound I’ve heard countless times. Geese.

I stepped outside and sat on a patio bench just to listen. The sounds from above told me there were thousands of snow geese on the move. A few white-fronted geese were flying too, easy to identify by their distinctive calls.

As I strained to see the birds in the dark sky I also heard the sound of duck wings passing overhead. No quacking or chuckling, just the whistling of wings moving quickly in the dark.

I thought about the miracle of migration, wondering the age old question of how the birds know where to go and when. There’s lots of theories on the subject but the best is, at least about taking flight, I think, is that the birds are phenomenal at staying in front of bad weather. Sure, there’s always a few late migrants but, overall, the bulk of the birds move when they sense a changing weather pattern. They trust their instincts.

What’s more, they don’t go east or west or left or right. They don’t waiver. They go pretty much in a straight line with a single destination in mind. They all get along too. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned from our feathered friends.