Geese and Work

I sat on the steps near the duck pond, reading J.D. Salinger's Nine Stories. Friday was hot, you'll recall, but dry. It reminded me of Arizona, where the wind and the heat hug your body. Class was in session, so the campus was quiet. The benches around the pond were filled with students not earnestly doing work. Peace reigned in this liminal space that marked the start of class, but not the end of summer.

Then goose honking filled the air. Fast-approaching, an air raid of geese swarmed overhead, flying in three close, lopsided V's. They normally inhabit the surface of the pond and surround it with wispy white feathers, causing some commotion which fades into the background. They are the hosts of the pond, really. And yet, I did not even know they were missing until they touched down in the middle of the pond, fully exploiting their rights as both denizens and hosts of the pond.

At first, they clustered in their flying groups and faced each other, West Side Story style. Then they became one large flock once more and faced the fountain on the eastern side of the pond. Little by little, their honking ceased. They were paying obeisance to the great fountain, which kept their water from stagnating and smelling. I half expected the fountain to talk, for it seemed as though they were all waiting for something. The geese held their positions in the turning waters, for a breeze had kicked up, and their own flapping had caused the water to stir.

As slowly as their honking had stopped, they turned to their different poses of life, as if suddenly remembering this was their home and they had housekeeping, after all. They preened and squawked a little, and dived down, and pecked one another, and forgot the fountain and their warlike entrance.

I turned to work. I have two jobs right now: The Cove at Millersville, and College Corner Cafe (fondly known as The Bagel Shop) at Franklin and Marshall College. It will probably get a little complicated to work out my schedule if I keep both jobs all semester... and goodness knows what next semester will hold in the way of work, for I'll be student teaching. I'm praying now. Pray, too, for provision that I might not have to work so much.