Just post a notice about a public supper, and Mainers get in formation like a wedge of geese.

They come from everywhere, talking as they fly around, a never ceasing honking sort of exchange that leaves a bystander wondering how any living creature can travel at such speed and have any breath for mere chatter.

It doesn’t take a great deal of organization; just a date and a time (always at 5 p.m.) and a few key people for casseroles, pies, salads and rolls. Plus a few more to set up and clean up. A public supper is born. It may be a benefit for a terminally ill neighbor or a family who lost a loved one. Or it may be a fund-raiser for a summer parade. It may even celebrate an anniversary or second marriage.

Whatever the occasion, hang a notice in the grocery store or the five-and-dime, and you’ve got people toting in food, others making certain each table has all the utensils, and others lining up at the door.

During the summer months, churches and charitable organizations throughout the state capitalize on Maine’s throngs of seasonal visitors who’d rather partake of baked bean suppers than cook poached salmon at home. The feast is bountiful and the socializing is part of the summer fare, they figure.

But anytime during the year, when there is a goal – and some geese in V-formation – a public supper can be achieved as easily as baking yeast rolls.

There were more than 200 of such rolls – most white, some wheat – at a benefit the other night for a young widow who was unprepared for the turnout and the donations generated.

Here they came, toting tuna noodle casseroles and lasagna … and dropping 20s, 50s, 100s into the unattended goldfish bowl near the front door. Others brought cheesecake, chocolate cakes with boiled frosting, cherry pies, banana cream pies, chocolate pies, salads – greens, fruit, potato – and more macaroni, and more Cool Whip nondairy topping, and more rolls.

In the kitchen, the gas stoves bore lobster stew by the gallons, with enough evaporated milk and heavy cream to richen the benefit coffers even more.

An unsolicited army of diswashers soaped forks and spoons for another setting, while others in the formation talked and honked as they flew their way around to tables, spreading out more place mats, napkins, butter dishes, baskets of hot rolls – rolls and more rolls.

Coffee, juices, soda, milk were slurped as the chairs were filled, once, twice and a third time. Two couples said they were passing through the community, saw the sign and came on in. They were thrilled to learn their donations were for a benefit, although for whom they never knew; they were delighted with lobster stew.

In a few hours, the migrating geese faded as they winged along into the night, putting the fullness of the meal behind them.

The others – a couple of old ganders and a few young fledglings, plus a gaggle of geese who’ve made this trip before – washed pans, dishes and floors. They didn’t rest until the journey’s end. It was an easy one for them and well worth the flight.