It's a bird, it's a plane...no, it's a reminder of home

Standing in a courtyard near 8 o'clock this morning and I hear something familiar overhead. At first I don't pay attention until I realize it is so familiar that I would never pick it out unless I was surrounded in as unfamilar an environment as this place...

It isn't beautiful, nor does it command attention like an ambulance siren or the clap of a thundercloud. In fact, it's really an awkward squawking. And just as I turn my head to catch sight of the origin of this noise I realize, it can be none other than

...the call of a Canadian goose.

And then there they were. Flying overhead--only five--in a lopsided V-formation, but five Canadian geese nonetheless. How many times have I seen Canadian geese? Countless. But never before have I been so delighted, dare I say proud, at such a gander. Unfortunately there was no one around; had there have been, I would have informed them that "yes, they too are Canadian."

In England though? I guess so. They looked lost though, being only the five of them.
"Maybe they're Newfies," I thought to myself.

They may not be magestic birds of prey or graceful birds of elegance and beauty, but you too would feel the pang of some heart string somewhere inside of you at the sight of a Canadian goose so far away from home.