I walk a lakeside, wooded trail several times a week. In fact, I’ve traversed this particular 1.5 mile loop in every season and at every time of day. The lake is lovely, with swans or blue heron, turtles or fish; I even saw an otter once. But this day, I struggled with inner silence. My mind raced from perceived mistakes of the past to worries about the future. I wanted to practice shifting from the worried mind into the serenity of present time—the sweet, eternal moment of Soul itself.
It was a sunny, cool spring morning with azure sky and puffy white clouds that reflected on the lake’s surface. Half an hour into my walk, I rounded a corner to see two geese sitting in the water close to shore. Their stillness surprised me, so I paused to watch and listen. That’s when I saw the reason for their soft, throaty sounds and perfect stillness. Six puffball goslings were pecking at the shore, eating just as fast as they could, sometimes swimming close to the edge just to climb up slightly farther away.
Surprised, I inhaled audibly. Now I stood completely still so the parents would know I was safe. The goslings had their full attention on food, and I had my full attention on their yellow fluffy cuteness.
After several minutes, the gander began very slowly turning to the center of the lake and moving out. The goose did the same, and the goslings gathered to re-enter the water, following mom and dad. One remained in the water close to shore, seeking snacks on the surface of the lake. By the time he looked up, his family had swum a way’s away. He paddled with the effort of his whole body to catch up with his siblings, swaying side to side as he left a wake in his path.
As they all gathered to swim to another feeding spot, I resumed my walk on the trail. May the blessings be, family, I said quietly, and I thanked them for sharing a moment of life’s journey. Just their presence had lifted me up and put me into present time.