I never
did get around to telling you about this, did I?
Well,
last spring, as the last patches of snow were shrinking away, we all became
aware of a handsome Canada Goose who turned up in the courtyard of the office
complex where I work. He took turns swooping over our buildings, poking around
in the grass for food, and relaxing on a rooftop. It was nice to have such a
creature around.
Twice the
fun when there were suddenly two of them. A male and female, we supposed.
Then one
day, someone asked me if I’d gone upstairs to see the nest full of eggs.
I hadn’t
realized it, but apparently this “man and wife” had chosen our little spot of
land as a nursery to start their family. The building the goose had been seen
relaxing on hosts a small garden on top of the three-story structure. It’s
protected. You can only go out there if you have special equipment, training,
and permission from the authorities. For the rest of us, it’s perfectly visible
through the windows in an upper hallway. It was in a corner of this garden that
the nest had been built. Now Mama Goose sat resolutely upon her clutch and
waited for the big day.
We were
excited to see this so close up, and even more excited, one Monday morning, to
see six little heads poking out of the same nest, with Mama and Papa doting
nearby. But even as we oohed and aahed and snapped our pictures, I began to
hear murmurs. It would be a while before the babies were old enough to get
down, and there was no pond up there.
Sure enough,
a short time after the big hatching, we arrived at work to find a very noisy
courtyard. Mama and Papa were down on the ground near the building in question,
honking away at the top of their lungs, bidding their children to follow. Out
in the wild, in a natural pond-like setting, it’s natural for the parents to
pick a day to have their children slip out of the nest and begin their
essential swimming lessons. Unfortunately, in this case, that “slip” was three
stories long! On top of that, the concrete rim that surrounds the rooftop
garden was about half a foot tall - - just out of reach for a wee baby goose
too young for the power of flight. The babies ran around the garden chirping
frantically! They rushed from this end to that. Occasionally, one would make a
valiant effort to get over that rim, jumping wildly up and down, itty bitty
wing stubs flapping frantically! But again and again they were unable to make
it, and soon resumed their frantic running.
Yet wildlife
officials warned us not to interfere and to make no contact with the chicks.
So, even as the warm sun grew warmer, there was nothing we could do but watch.
One
mighty and desperate heave finally landed one of the chicks on top of that concrete
rim. Tragically, his infant intellect had afforded him a serious misjudgement.
He was facing the opposite end of the building from where his parents waited.
They were sitting in a plant bed on soft soil. Under this baby, was only an
expansive bed of large rocks.
He waddled across its breadth
toward the outside edge.
“Oh no!”
We cried, “Don’t go that way!”
My
stomach churned and my heart thudded as the baby reached the other edge of the
rim and, abruptly, dropped out of sight for the three-story drop for the rock
bed below!
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