Lament for the Goslings

“the geese didn’t make it”

Terse words for such gracious birds

Family and friends

community events made my

recent vacation one of 

rejuvenation of mind and spirit

A little family of seven goslings,

guided and guarded by their parents

on a still, small pond

was a large piece of

my vacation healing

I shared with you their 

growth before their losses

growth after their losses

Geese do get a bad rap for

being messy and bossy

This little gaggle of geese

in such a sparkling natural world were neither

Are all the family gone

Did the remaining adult lose it’s life

defending her remaining five goslings

Did coyotes cut the adult off from them

and steal the goslings from her - or him

I have no answers for these questions

Only great gratitude to the small avian family

that brought me such peace and joy

Even the tiniest of nature’s children offer these gifts to us.

Now when I hear

honking geese over head or

rustling wings of low flying geese

see a fuzzy young chick of any species

I will remember those peaceful times

at the glassy green pond 

down the hill from a field of daisies

In the cool sun of early morning

if you look closely you can see them

rising with the mist to take flight

“There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are 

becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature.”

~ Henry David Thoreau

More About Mind Clutter

It’s about the debris.

Left too long it becomes

dusty

moldy

stinky

growing 

thick with weeds 

clinging to

neurons and synapses

roots wrapping ‘round

memory 

whether good or bad, or maybe just lukewarm

distorting it

changing it.

Could memory be covered completely

as though it were never there?

The debris can be 

removed

tamed 

when regularly tended 

carefully

gently

kindly

To enter that swampy thicket

unarmed

without the right tools

without protective clothing

may be dangerous

But be careful

step lightly

dusty rays of sunlight

filter through to the mossy floor

tiny flower bulbs of memory survive

nurturing ferns and mushrooms abound

Generations of trees grow up to the sun.

"The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten."

~ Cesare Pavese

Mind Clutter.....

piling black clouds,

white, cold underbelly

rimmed in slate gray,

storm on a horizon

wide and flat

mountainous and misty

rolling green hills

anyone’s terrain

thunder clouds

come quickly

prairie thunder storms

flash brilliantly

hover darkly

slant rain harshly in 

waves of awesome anger, then

slip 'round and over the horizon.

debris of the storm

wet and sodden

dries in warm sunshine

left to be picked up

rearranged

mended

put back in place or

discarded

while the rest of life continues

wrapping around and through,

expectations of others

weigh heavily.

"A man who cannot get angry is like a stream

that cannot overflow, that is always turbid. 

Sometimes indignation is as a thunderstorm 

in summer, clearing and cooling the air."

 ~ Henry Ward Beecher, Proverbs from Plymouth Pulpit

Clearing Space Around Me

My arms stretch 

finger tip to finger tip.

A slow and gentle spin

points to all the clutter 

gathered in

yard

home

upstairs

downstairs

Lowering my arms

my eyes

inside my space

outside clutter blurs

inside disarray comes into focus.

Only inside 

my tiny circle

need concern me.

With one step 

forward

side to side

backwards

Clutter’s ragged fingernails tap-tap quietly.

In my defense, clips in small bites, bits and pieces,

manages growing unmanageability.

Be careful.

Inside the disarray

lie precious gems 

tucked one beside the other.

What seems messy

untidy

when realigned,
reshaped,

polished,

glows with the light of home and family.

“Three Rules of Work:  Out of clutter find simplicity: From discord 

find harmony: In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.”

~ Albert Einstein 

A Final Gosling Report from my Vacation

The Goslings......

I left them last week on Thursday

to wing my way

back to beautiful Victoria 

in the company of other travelers.

My thoughts are still 

at the small pond 

in the center of 

a field of daisies,

woodland and marsh,

a field of green with 

slowly turning windmill

geese

kildeer,

turtles

busier life within and below the terrain.

Seven goslings, 

guided and protected by two attentive parents

became my special mission to watch.

By the last week of my stay, 

this little family was smaller by three:

two goslings gone

one parent gone

My heart denied the awful reports.

Hope really does spring eternal.

Maybe the smaller number was just

a purposeful splitting up of the tiny family for

some kind of lesson in the natural world?

Part of the natural world of the pond, field and marsh are

coyotes hunting at night.

The grand feathered parent must have retaliated with equal violence

unable to save itself and 

two of the little ones.

In early morning, on my second last day, I had to see for myself,

photographs blurred with great streaks of rain

as though monumental tears were being shed for my feathered friends.

It was my last morning,

the grass still soaked with rain,

spiderwebs heavily hung with glittering beads of dew.

I arrived at the pond,

just as the growing, but smaller family,

pushed off from the bank into glassy water.

It was true.

One glorious proud parent remained - was it mother or father - 

Five growing goslings

Still proud

Still beautiful.

Still growing   

The pond and meadow ~

quietly serene.

“Let us permit nature to have her way. She

understands her business better than we do.”

  ~ Michel de Montaigne

Mother’s Day and Last Day of Canada’s National Nurses Week

A Mother's Day gift and
a gift from a young patient

At first glance,

I thought this juxtaposition

was quite incongruous.

But mothers for many decades

have been employed outside the home in nursing positions.

And in relatively recent history

so have fathers.

Juggling schedules of 

home and family

shift work

employer’s schedules       

continuing education

has been and is worthy of the Flying Wallenda’s.

In the late 1950’s, when

women choosing nursing as a career

were granted the opportunity

to become 

married

mothers

working nurses were born.

I say this rather cynically,

yet with the knowledge that

societal mores change slowly.

My musings this morning are two fold

Initially they have been about the many mothers 

that I have known, 

both outside and inside of nursing,

But then I thought of my sons

knowing that they had to share

my heart and mind with

my career

my marriage

our family's many roller coaster events

This mother is supremely grateful

for the love they have given me in this

side by side mother/nurse role I have chosen.

“It is not how much you do but how 

much love you put in the doing.”

~ Mother Theresa

“First, from the early 1950s, many employed mothers began to challenge, although not overturn, the dominant discourse of the ideal mother as exclusively bound to home. The simple fact is that so many women were drawn to work outside the home despite criticism demonstrates the monetary and psychological importance of employment for women.”  

                                              (Wilson, 2006)