The wind is brisk and the clouds are low. The sun is escaping the cold weather, hiding behind the mountains. ItÃ¢Â€Â™s only a matter of time before the snow starts to fall. As I sit and enjoy the last of the grass-covered ground, I hear a far off squawk coming from a bird. The sound of their wings is soft, but noticeable. I squint my eyes and peer into the sky above, when thirty or more Canadian geese fly, in a nearly perfect V formation, towards Tahoe City. The snow is coming and theyÃ¢Â€Â™re supposed to be migrating south for the chilly winter season. TheyÃ¢Â€Â™re heading north. They must be confused. I wonder if they will make it to their winter home. I hope they make it. They are called Canadian geese however...maybe theyÃ¢Â€Â™re used to the cold. Perhaps this flock of geese is making a pit stop on the golf course. Or maybe theyÃ¢Â€Â™re warning people below that itÃ¢Â€Â™s about to snow and we should pack our bags and head to Mexico. Either way, they will soon be in another world, far away from Tahoe, far away from the cold.