Canada geese.
They woke me on New Year's Eve morning with their distinctive honking calls as they landed on the fishing lake which I can see through the bare branched trees at the end of my garden.
Who knows how long their journey has been in the skies between continents.
And I've been thinking about my friend who passed away, gracefully, on New Year's Eve.
And the rawness in the voice of her husband when I talked to him this afternoon.
Re-living the numbness, the madness, floating in the water of 'it can't be true' in those wild dark days after Robin died.
Making funeral arrangements as if for someone else who I didn't know.. And when it was all over he and I could just go home and be normal again. Even though it had stopped being normal in November 2010.
And it hasn't been ever since.
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