I live in an area of St. Charles that is not rural, around Fountain Lakes and Highway 370. During the course of about six weeks last autumn, on each weekend the unmistakable sound of firearms could be heard just before dawn and just after daybreak. The firing was as intense as the silence afterward.

It was said a local person opened land to duck hunters.

In any case, there were 20 resident geese of the area, flying faithfully every morning and evening in their V-formation for years. Then they dwindled to a group of 10. Then to five, which strafed the roof of an apartment because they were flying low.

Sadly, one fell to ground out of this last formation. They are gone. Not moved on, not scared away. I feel the loss.

Wildlife is more than the guns and boxes of shells used to disturb the equilibrium of a neighborhood and ultimately to the compassion of a world. There is a fine line between conservation and extinction.

I read of a relief organization asking for a steer and/or hog. I am unclear as to if dead or alive was wanted to be donated, but alive had even worse connotations. If this is this country's solution to its many ongoing problems, then something is irredeemably wrong.

Meat is not an every day, every meal absolute. There are rice and beans, veg-up omelettes, make soup or spaghetti. Each season has its own fruits, vegetables and grains (fresh, too) to extend meals. You are not deprived and you will survive.

I so miss those elegant, peaceful geese. I am so sorry for their frightful last flights. In remembrance and frustration, I see lack of compassion is a world-wide equal opportunity destroyer of many things. I pray for equilibrium.

Karen Hickok, St. Charles