Kirkpatricks and Company: From One Mother to Another

There is an overwhelming sense of reverence built into the framework of Mother Nature. For all her intricacies, her message is delivered with the utmost clarity in spring time.

I passed an empty lot today, completely dotted with tiny, yellow flowers. Their long, thin stems held a delicate, velvet bud that seemed to be facing upwards in a chorus of silent gratitude. I felt my capacity weaken, and gush like a broken dam. Why should a field of insignificant flowers make my eyes start to tear and my heart begin to weep?

Whether peering across at the brilliant azaleas, or looking down at weeds gathered at the base of our letterbox, the message stood clear. There is great love here. Perhaps the little flowers were not so trivial after all, and perhaps their singing could be heard as well.

An uncomfortable look accompanied my husband when he entered the kitchen this afternoon. Black binoculars were held in one hand, and his car keys in the other. "Honey, he said gently. I just drove past the neighborhood pond and saw two geese with their little babies. I think if we take Sunny down, there's a good chance these geese will look after him.." He trailed off hesitantly, waiting for my reaction. Seeing it struck a tender chord, he took charge and before I knew it I was sitting in the truck with Sunny D in my lap.

The grass near the pond had recently been cut and scattered blades tossed about in my sandals. I could smell the murky water as we came closer, and my feet began to sink as I stepped near the ponds damp, red clay.

Two geese and their goslings had just waded across to the other side of the pond. Though they were at a distance, their keen eye sight froze to our every move.

Sunny splashed eagerly into the water, but stayed close to his human parents. The distraction of the immense algae and plentiful insects allowed us to step away into the shadows of a nearby tree. "Panicked Peeping" burst through our serene moment as Sunny discovered we had left. Matthew and I both looked up at Mother Goose, and smiles crossed our faces as we watched her glide over with strength and authority. A baby was crying for help...and she must come.

I still stand amazed at how peaceful and beautiful those short minutes were. Sunny turned and saw the mother goose and was only vaguely startled. He turned back to look at us (yes, just like you see in the movies) and there was no language to say, "He likes a banana first thing in the morning, he prefers romaine to red leaf lettuce...and he loves to be cuddled in my apron pocket..." All I could do was look at Sunny's new mom and say 'thank you' in my heart. I think she said 'thank you' back.

Mother Nature took over and all we could do is stand and watch quietly as they all drifted back across to the other side of the pond. Father Goose trailed behind to see that Sunny kept up with the rest. I was so pleased to see his protectiveness.

We stood for a few more minutes peering through the binoculars, watching sunny romp with his new siblings, as Mother and Father Goose stood erect, one eye on their babies, the other on us.