Walking back from the farm at the end of the road, with the baby wide-eyed and content in the stroller, I see two geese and four goslings crossing the road. I hurry forward to see them up close. The geese have long, elegant black necks. The smaller one is in front, the larger behind. The four goslings are muddy golden in color and look impossibly soft. I cross the road just as they are pushing through tall grass to the newly mown corn field. They are scared by me and my giant orange stroller bearing down on them, so the parents abruptly hustle the goslings back across the street. The little goslings have to go at top speed and their huge flat webbed feet go flap whap flap as they paddle across the street.
A car has pulled up behind me. Are they worried I am about to dart in front of them? No, they are also admiring the goslings.
"Wow!" says the old woman in the passenger seat. "We've never seen that up close before!"
"I even have my camera here in the car," lamented her husband from the driver's seat, "but I was too slow."
'They were adorable!" I cry.
"And their parents take such good care of them. One in front. One behind. Most parents don't take such good care of their children," she teases me, with a glance at my contented baby in the stroller.
"I ought to have my husband walking here in front of the stroller!"
A car and a tractor have appeared in the road behind their car, and the two geese and four goslings are small, determined figures moving away from us far across the corn field. So they pull off down the road, waving cheerfully at me.
