The goose

By Naomi Ambrose, Staff Writer

 

On the opposite sides of the cracked asphalt footpath, the short green grass sprawled across the northern side of the park like a blanket. Within the grass, a thin brown branch slept silently, barely noticeable. The few patches of brown mixed in the sea of green were sudden reminders that differences in the colour of the land should be observed. They seemed to illustrate that the grass is not always as green as we hope.

As I took a moment to marvel at the park’s serene ambiance, a goose slowly waddled along the grass, as if to make a point that geese are also natural dwellers of urban parks. Park geese that stroll along these public, outdoor spaces have always fascinated me. Their ability to strut along while cyclists pass on their bikes, alongside runners who jog fast like cheetahs, are sights of constant wonder. These geese show that it is possible to slow down to view the beauty of our fast-moving surroundings.

It was a goose to behold, with a long, black neck that stood tall and confident. She turned her head to admire the water in the nearby lake. Or perhaps the goose was in awe of the reflection of the cloudy blue sky in the still water.

I also joined in to watch the lake. It was massive and quiet, lined by dozens of tall, looming green fern trees.

My goose friend continued her waddling, looking straight ahead. I’d hoped that the goose would have taken a microsecond to turn her neck to the left, to observe the whizzing vehicles on the nearby road. I imagined that the goose would have marvelled at the three minivans and the two smaller vehicles in the lane closest to her.

I envisioned that lady goose longed for a moment to observe the drivers with their windows rolled up, who denied themselves an opportunity to reinvigorate themselves by taking a whiff of the cool air surrounding the lake and the green trees.

As the goose left my sight, I looked at the grass beneath my shoes. A thought then crossed my mind, to take slow steps like my goose friend. In a flash it was gone, and I thought about the next task that I had to complete.