THANKFUL FRIDAY

Last Spring, a pair of geese decided to nest on the roof of the entryway into our building. I had the perfect view of them from my cubicle window and I watched as the female goose laid five eggs. Then we all watched and waited. It takes 28-35 days for a goose egg to hatch and the mother goose sits on those eggs the whole time. She might rearrange herself or stand to stretch a leg for a second, but for all of those days, she is tied to that nest. There’s a ledge around her rooftop nest that makes it impossible for her chicks to to get off the roof on their own. But those five eggs hatched and we had five healthy goslings running around the rooftop until we convinced the window washer to toss the babies off the roof. Once the family had made it to the ground they all tottered off and we assume, lived happily ever after.

The corner of the roof that she chose is not well sheltered from the elements. The mid-day sun directly beats down on her back and there is no protection from the rain. We’ve had a pair of red tailed hawks living in the eaves of one of the taller buildings for years and quite often you see one of them out on patrol or a hunt. Add in the ledge that traps the babies on the roof, this is a terrible spot to raise a family of birds. Yet, the pair came back again this Spring. There was an attempt at deterring them with predator spray, but they insisted and this year the female goose laid six eggs. Monday of this week, all six of those eggs hatched and we had six healthy babies running around on the rooftop. 

When I got to work Wednesday morning, my first action was to look out my window to check on the birds, but they were nowhere to be found. I knew that we had contacted groundskeeping when the chicks had hatched so they could climb up to rescue them, but I guess I didn’t expect them to do it when no one was around. At first I panicked. What if they hadn’t been rescued? Nature is harsh. Talaura, Michael and I stood on a trail for half an hour at Devil’s Tower watching helplessly with a crowd of tourists as a snake devoured the eggs of a nest in a tree with the parents squawking and attempting to defend the nest the whole time. It was horrifying but we couldn’t look away. This is not just a cruel world for women. I managed to track down a groundskeeper while on my coffee walk to confirm that all the babies had been safely removed from the roof early this morning and the whole family had once again tottered off, moving on to swimming lessons. My group was a little more than disappointed to not have the opportunity to witness the rescue this year. We all agree that we’re missing a sense of closure, but we are also relieved to know that they all survived. 

Survival is miraculous. 

For months now I have been trying to gain momentum to get on my yoga mat consistently and not the sporadic routine I have going on now. The dog walks have also been sporadic. Anything involving exercise or getting into a habit of any kind of healthy movement has felt impossible. I am very busy at work right now and I go home to the usual chore list of cleaning and cooking and making sure animals are well fed and loved. By the time I sit down on the couch in the evening, what’s left of my energy gets funneled into a Duolingo French lesson and maybe the crossword. I am eating healthy meals and not using the elevator at work, but I recognize that I am in survival mode. I know I am not a wild animal and in a few weeks it will be easier to delegate the household chores to others. I have all the tools for gaining momentum. I will get back to something more consistently healthy than my current state. While survival may be a miracle, thriving is the gift of surviving. Getting back to something consistent will be more of a thriving situation.

Today, I am grateful for the miraculous, but I am looking forward to the gift.