I heard them before I saw them, these geese in a golden riffle. I'd taken Moon-the-Dog out for her dawn peregrinations. The sun was just making its way above the maples and hackberries up on the hill. From somewhere upstream a kingfisher screeched.
Then, from downstream, the honk of a goose, a few muttered gabbles, and another honk or two. Geese rather than goose.
At first I couldn't see anything. You'd think even a single jumbo Canada goose would be easily spotted. Let alone a bunch. But it was barely daylight, there's lots of brush along the river…and, I was still sipping my first cup of coffee. I had to amble down to the lower corner of the yard before I finally saw the flock—a dozen birds, standing in the shallows of a riffle thirty yards away. Most were watching me, making sure I wasn't up to something villainous.
Geese in a riffle are always worth a look. But geese in a riffle gilded with the golden light of dawn are something special due to the magical light. I made a photo. Tell me what you think. Geese in a golden riffle by this morning's magical light.