I decided to do some bird watching along the shore of a local lake.  It was the perfect time of year to photograph migrating birds.  I meandered along the lake trail.  It was an eerily quiet morning.  The absence of birdsong was evident.  I approached the lake and watched the steam rise from its calm surface.  I felt an odd sense of relief at finding a gaggle of geese preening themselves along the shoreline.  I pulled out my camera and snapped a few shots of the geese and the misty lake. I scanned the tree canopy for motion. Nothing… not even a breeze rustling the fresh spring leaves.  The geese, suddenly and in unison, stopped preening and lifted their heads with alertness. I felt my skin begin to prickle.  Something told the wild geese it was time to fly and I followed their lead.

dVerse Prosery: Something Told the Wild Geese hosted by Kim.

Kim prompts us to write a piece of flash fiction of 144 words, incorporating the line: “Something told the wild geese [i]t was time to fly.” This is a line from ‘Something told the wild geese’, by Rachel Lyman Field (1894 – 1942).