|Dawns beauty all around the Hospice Gift Shop...|
In its absence is witnessed a dismal gray and chilling landscape…compliments of old man winter. The snow continues to fall upon the estimated six inches which has already fallen during the night. The snow plows have been grinding by all night long, as the happy drivers take advantage of the overtime to pay their over abundant debts from this Christmas, now past.
One becomes wise in the understanding of bittersweet knowledge when observing Gladys out on the ice…standing serene, yet vigilant in her endeavor to survive with her broken wing. Who knows what she thinks or is aware of. Does she think a fox or coyote cannot venture onto the ice on which she makes her stand? How will she escape without the advantage of flight? I fear she has an illogical belief that while on that icy pond, she has the safety afforded when the pond is thawed and she can dive and swim away from an attack.
It is sad that we have become so close to her…fed her and even had her staying in the barn overnight, only to reject the barns safety…at the worst possible time. Now is the time that she should be nesting on the nice dry wood chips, in the barn with lots of food and water. Safety…comforts…peace and still, the freedom to come when the water is open.
Gladys could take advantage of all we can offer her, but I suppose she will continue to be a wild Canadian goose, living her life in the wild. We thought that Doodles being here…a wild Canadian goose, living in the barn every night and being released every day, would have made Gladys want to live the same way since she has no chance of flying again, but that has not been the case.
Still…it saddens me to look upon her standing on the ice alone…calling…as if her gaggle of nine family members will return on a daily basis as they had before winter’s bitter cold set in. We will continue to feed her along with the chickens and doodles if she will come in to feed. If not, her fate is her own. Here are some pictures I snapped both last evening and this morning.
|Waiting out the storm...|
|Maybe even eight inches here...|
|One bull headed goose...|
|Standing all alone awaiting death or spring...|
|What a mess to deal with...someday...|
|Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow....|
|Pictures taken with flash always destroy the quaint, cuddly feeling|
052862 Cluckin' "A" Critter Farm, LLC