Goose Sense (in a Time of Non-sense)
A sauntering gaggle of geese brings traffic to a sudden halt on the busy four-lane highway in front of my apartment building. The posted speed limit is 45 mph, but most drivers seem to take that as a minimum recommendation. I glance down at my to-do list. There is nothing that cannot wait.
The family of geese, two adults and five goslings, seems unperturbed by the screeching tires and deafening horns. The birds form a long parade that stretches across three of the four lanes. They take their time crossing, one adult in front, the other serving as crossing guard.
I wonder where the geese came from and where they are going. An old joke comes to mind: Why did the chicken cross the road? Like the chicken, the geese are trying to get to the other side, but why? I look left then right for an answer.
The goose family is headed to my left toward a small pond bounded by sparkling white stones. A gentle spray of water rises above the guardrail. A delicate fountain occupies the center of the pond, a landscape feature that decorates the property of a commercial construction company. Perhaps the geese are heading home, nesting somewhere in the shrubbery surrounding the peaceful and precisely manicured lawn. Truly, the grass is greener on the other side of the street.
But what were they doing on the right side of the road? I see a wide expanse of asphalt fronting a long row of office buildings. There is a large sign identifying a pediatrician’s office. Dr. Dolittle, perhaps? Are the geese coming from a well-gosling visit? I smile. Wouldn’t that delight an ailing youngster? I imagine a waiting room filled with children and baby animals. A child’s dream! The attitude of the ambling geese seems to indicate that my musings may be a reality on the right side of the highway.
Behind the office building and the urban sprawl of asphalt, steel, and glass, the cool, slow-moving waters of the Scioto River meander east toward downtown. A speeding motorist would not know this, but moving at goose-speed, a traveler might see and hear the signs of a natural environment undeterred by mankind’s progress. Lush, green foliage peeks out above the rooftops and whispers in the wind. Rippling water slaps the rocks as it brushes the shore. A choir of tiny birds chirp and flutter their wings. Chestnut-colored chipmunks play hide-and-seek in the cool, shaded spaces along the river’s edge.
The geese seem to gravitate to good neighborhoods. They like short grass, seeded areas, lakes, ponds, well-manicured lawns, and, apparently, rivers. It turns out I live in a pretty great community by goose standards. Goslings are not born with an innate sense of home. They learn to migrate from their parents and flock. Once they learn where home is, they return year after year. Some never leave.
This leads to a growing goose population in many developed areas like mine. And just like millennials, the geese are flocking downtown. They find food and safety in our cities. Their natural predators such as wolves, eagles, bears, raccoons, and foxes are rare in the city. These tall, proud birds don’t seem troubled by the urban predators that I fear — 5000 pound SUVs moving at light-speed and operated by cranky humans on their cell phones, some with guns under their seats.
I admire the fearlessness of this goose family, and I appreciate their solidarity. A goose and a gander mate for life, up to 25 years. They grow large families. A single female can produce up to 50 young in a lifetime. Geese are committed to the members of their flock. If one goose gets sick or wounded, the others may follow the ailing goose and try to protect it until it dies or can fly again. Traveling together in a “V” formation helps the birds to fly a farther distance together than any one of them could fly alone. The lifting power of the birds in front pulls a drifting goose back into formation. When the leader tires, he falls back and allows another goose to take the driver’s seat.
Watching the geese cross the street, I feel a moment of connection to the natural world. We are living in a contentious time when human nature seems to be devolving through fear, hostility, and self-centeredness. But here, on this busy highway, Mother Nature offers a reminder that there is within us an antidote. The gaggle of geese forces me to stop and take note. Before the other drivers can start honking and swearing at me, I amend my to-do list. Stops at the bank, post office, pharmacy, and library drop-off move to the bottom. My revised list? Take your time. Enjoy the nature that surrounds you. Stick together, and stick close to home. Love your family long and fearlessly. And if you are the leader, don’t be afraid to admit when you are faltering; step back and let others take the lead.
