The frenzied cries of Canada Geese call us away from our cross country skis and over to the river where great rafts of waterfowl float toward us on a strong incoming tide. Geese for sure and many ducks ride the tide, all forming a guard for the swans, most with pure white feathers, two still grey— all graceful as the Queen on her balcony. The swans dwarf the Canada Geese, our hometown giants. They are the travelers, rebuilding strength lost on the long flight to this riverine meadow; storing energy for the final leg to the Alaska tundra.
An almost magical convergence, we have sun and high water and swans as well the snow buried Chilkat mountains just across Lynn Canal. There is also the trails and a little gray dog that longs to sprint along as we ski. I hear goose complaints deep in the woods long after we turned our backs on our guests.