We have lived on Hopeville Pond for almost six years, and there is never a dull moment out among the wildlife that congregates in our backyard. This fall, the geese came and hung out. As the pond started to freeze, I could still hear them out there chattering to each other in the middle of the night, wondering when they'd fly to someplace warm. One particular cold spell hit, and it appeared that they had finally given in and that the pond would be quiet for the winter.
There was one lone exception. As my husband and I looked down on the water, one goose remained. We became preoccupied with the fact that he wasn't flying or swimming; he remained in one spot, occasionally releasing a curdling squawk.
Convinced that the water had frozen around him and that his screams were due to his torturous entrapment, the rescue plot began. As I threw a half loaf of bread onto the ice, hoping it would somehow stir him free, we ran through our options...surfboard, kayak, paddle boat...until the reality of all three of us frozen at the bottom of Hopeville Pond shook us out of it, and, instead, I called the Department of Environment Protection.
Me: 'I believe that there is a goose stuck in the ice in back of my house.'
DEP guy: 'He isn't stuck. He's sitting.'
Me: 'Well, he's squawking and not moving and I think he's stuck.'
DEP guy: 'He can't get stuck; his body temperature is too high. Sometimes they just sit.'
I woke up the next day, and there was no goose. What a relief; apparently he was done sitting.
Then, that afternoon, my husband breaks the news to me...'The goose is dead. He is down by the dock.' For some reason, my heart broke. I cried and cried in some terrible goose mourning, regretful that I wasn't able to save him. I was given a stiff warning that I shouldn't go down and look simply to be further tormented.
The following morning, of course, I looked. And looked. No goose.
As I scanned the location of the death, I saw lots of animal tracks. I concluded that a scraggly fox (or some other scraggly, hungry animal) had carried off the goose and found relief in the fact that the circle of life had presented itself in full glory.
Later, As I shared my circle of life story with my husband, I began to suspect that the death was a bit more speculated than I had thought. In fact, there was no real confirmation (for some reason I had visions of a goose laying on it's side with its tongue hanging out) just a long analysis of non movement through binoculars from our deck.
One afternoon not long after, I pull in the driveway and spot something down by the dock. It didn't take but a second to realize what, or who, it was. Standing there, very much alive, was the goose (and I swear I could almost make out a little smirk).
I shared this story with lots of people (and my apologies to those that find it repetitive) because there was something in the experience that struck me as so powerful, indicative of the year that passed and the decade ahead. I see it these three words:
Stuck - We all have moments where it appears we're trapped, not moving fast enough or in the right direction. Courage comes in the form of accepting when it's time to sit and knowing when to stop sitting. Being stuck is often an illusion.
Feeling - We all have our own way of experiencing happiness, sadness, excitement, fear...sometimes wildly overblown and sometimes not nearly deep or wide enough. The importance is to feel it, learn from it, and not beat yourself up when it's too much one way and not the other.
Hopeful - It's appropriate that I live on Hopeville Pond because I am hopelessly hopeful. Without it, moments of despair become days and weeks and months of despair. Without it, when we are disappointed in ourselves or others, the meaning all gets lost. Without it, we can truly be stuck.
Happy New Decade!
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