I saw the first geese of winter this morning. They hang around most the winter and unquestionably use the church tower as a navigational aid, as highlighted in this excerpt from "The Northern Line to Shropshire."
Geese always remind me of that poster you find in corporate life. It's one of a series of motivational arse-wipe glossies, that's supposed to throw open the windows onto a newer, brighter business vista, but manages instead to remind you of the soul-sucking pointlessness of your working life.
If I remember rightly the geese are flying in v-formation, and the message is that you can achieve more through teamwork, though I've always preferred to think it meant the ones further back in the pack are avoiding the shit flying at them from the ones in front. Its appearance on any wall near you should be taken as an indication of impending redundancy.
Anyway, walking for the paper each morning this week, at least a hundred have honked overhead, either in the classic V skein, or strung out like the Tour de France peloton in a sidewind. And, believe me, it was far more uplifting than an HR fuckwit with a bunch of posters and some blu-tack.
I'm not entirely sure where they've come from and I haven't a clue where they're going. They seem to know. Though I guess all that honking could be one huge navigational argument – the young ones out the back crying: “Are we there yet”, whilst up front the mother sighs: “No, Geoffrey, I said left at the church”...
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