Children of the Geese

     I could hear her talking.  My friend, one floor down and one apartment to the left.  Her voice was soft and comforting.  I knew what she was doing and who she was talking to.

     I leaned over the railing, watched her and said, "Raisin Bran?"

     She jumped, then giggled and said, "Don't you tell my husband!  He only got one bowl out of the whole box!"

     My friend, the Goose Whisperer, was feeding the geese.  Raisin Bran was all she had, at the time, but I've seen her toss a bowl full of cooked rice over the railing.......and an entire loaf of bread that had just been purchased the day before.  

     She loves to feed the geese and talks to them while she tosses whatever is the morsel of the day over the railing.  She has several of them named and when I watch them interact with her, I think they know what she is saying.  They walk under her balcony every day, at the same time of day and look for her.  It is funny to see them turn their heads to the side so they can look up to see if it's raining cereal.

     Then, there are the Bread People.  No one seems to know exactly where the Bread People come from, or what they do for a living.  They arrive every morning, in their vehicle, jump out, open the trunk and the back doors and arm themselves with loaves of bread.  We ponder as to how they come up with so much bread because the back seat of the car is almost level to the windows with it.  Perhaps they work at a bakery.  Perhaps they have the inside track on day old bread that the stores have to get rid of.  Perhaps, they won the lottery and can afford to buy all the bread they want. Regardless the reason, they feed the geese about four loaves a day and these are just the geese at Big Pond.  They make several stops each day for different flocks of the Canadian honker.  

     One day, the Bread People showed up a bit earlier than usual and the pair of geese that stay at Big Pond were in the playground area.  Mr. Bread Person, arms loaded with bread, called to the pair, just like one would call a dog, and the geese waddled as fast as they could, wings spread, necks out stretched, honking all the way, in his direction.

     It can be argued that refined white or wheat bread is not healthy for the geese.  But, the Bread People have been doing this a long time and the geese do not seem any worse for wear.

     Yes, I too have fallen victim to being a child of the geese. I save the bread heels and even though I realize I could be flogged by a thousand feathers, there is something magical about one of these wild fowl gingerly plucking a small piece of bread from my fingers. 

     I read an article about people who feed geese.  It said one should be honored to be accepted as a fellow goose.  I will honor that.