This is what I imagine . We have the ever present guardian
goose....who one day long ago had his wing feathers grow long long, without
some farmer keeping up...and discovered flight. and took it, the flight, and
took off.
Did he have an inkling he could fly, the way the Robins
and the Sparrows and the wild ducks and the wild geese flew overhead, every single day, and then ,far and away?
Did he have any idea whatsoever?
Did he feel it stirring inside of himself, this thrumming of some
ability to have the strength within his wings and the innate knowledge of how
to take a running start, and the liftoff that could happen?
Did he discover it, and begin quietly practicing, when no
humans were noticing?
Did he plan his escape?
For he did. escape.
From the farm he was raised upon.
He escaped and he flew anywhere he wished, and he somehow came upon the pond at Mt. Holyoke
College, and has been there for years, ever since.
Just take a gander at that happy Gander, eh?
He is a guardian, and takes care of visiting
Canadian flocks, feeling his responsibility seriously; while evidently relishing
the uncommon socializing, that often lasts almost a week
He took seriously ,last year, staying by the small female
Mallard who, without a male, hatched maybe 8 babies. He seriously stayed by
them and protected them and helped to raise them and never left her side, guiding them to bed down on rocks in the safest part of the stream,
between the small bridges, and then staying by their side, watchful and powerful, all of the night.
He took seriously his love, a Canadian female, who spent long
luxurious days preening him as he preened her, while two single male Canadians
looked on, clearly frustrated.
While he and she languidly swam about the pond together, as
other Canadian couples did the same, courting and falling in love.
But the life-long love was not to be, and after a few weeks,
sadly, she was gone, maybe to settle for a life-long mate - who may not have had
his joie de vivre, nor his fierce devotion, but could answer her call for
mating and nesting and raising small ones.
He is still there today, as the sun rises and as it sets- in
coldest winter
and the hot lazy summer days we are having now.
Feeding deep into the mud. Spending time with
Mallard friends.
Keeping watch.
And every day - I am dreaming and going and watching - he is waking early, and rediscovering himself filled to the brim with the preciousness of his autonomy
and the breadth of the life he has made for himself, rife with complete freedom.
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