“The Lost Baby Canada Goose, and Me”

“The Lost Baby Canada Goose, and Me” by Jacqualine Haller

If you are following me on my Instagram page (@jaya_meditation), you already know my post from this past Tuesday. 

On the heels of that amazing day, I decided to go back to the falls. I arrived there with my usual anticipation, parked and started to make my way towards the entrance. As I am walking by the highway portion, and in the middle of the road, there was a little baby Canada Goose, a gosling. She (?) was completely lost and was crying nonstop for her family; like crying – crying. She sounded like the baby that she was. 

I couldn’t leave.

Now, I am what my dad used to lovingly call me which was: “city soft.” A term he christened me with after we both realized what living in a big city had done to my abilities to function outside of an office or business. Interacting with wild animals is not something I really encounter on a daily basis. I mean, do baby Canada Geese bite?

As my attention was now towards her, a few couples came to help. A gentleman driving a big truck rolled to a stop to see what the crowd of 3 was about. He bravely stopped in the middle of the highway, rolled down his window to chat with me, suggested her parents might be around and that it was safe to pick her up. I thought that was nice of him. It was actually nice of everyone who stopped to talk or try help. I collected her and immediately started to speak to her so that she would get comfortable with the sound of my voice. Obviously, animals communicate through sound, so that seemed to make the most sense at the time. Although I am sure it looked a little weird, not that anyone was around at that point. 

Away we went. I thought to bring her to the lake which was maybe a 10–15-minute walk away. I have never timed it. I eventually ran into another lovely couple on one of the bridges, and they told me that there was a bird rescue in the nearest city, and to search them; that they might even come get her. Obviously reuniting with her parents is the ideal outcome, but if that doesn’t happen, what are my options? I mean, do I now have a pet baby Canada Goose? Because hey, if that is where this is going, I’m probably in. 

Not fully aware of how curious and panicked a lost gosling might be, I put her down on the forest side of the pathway, opposite to where there is a rather fast running glacier stream. I did not think she would try get to the water, which is so obvious to me now. I started to search bird places on my phone to no avail. Meanwhile, she is all over the place, and she manages to cross the path with her little baby web-feet, chirping away. She ends up too close to the edge, and well doesn’t she fall in. I mean, come on! Not only am I in love with her by this point and determined to see her reunited with her parents, but she has put me in a predicament that I am not super equipped to get her out of.

At this point, I can’t see her. I don’t see her little fluffy body floating down the creek either, so I have hope. I keep whistling to her. By this point, I am not sure how much time has passed, but eventually another couple came by. I felt obligated to tell them the story, so I didn’t look like some weird lady whistling into a brook. They were incredibly kind and tried to help, but they couldn’t. It was too dangerous.

By this point, she had swum a little upstream and found a small cove where there was some protection from the rushing water. But it is cold, and I can see that she is scared. She cannot stay there forever either. This is not a long-term solution. It only is providing a moment of reprieve from still a very dire situation. I cross the creek to go on the other side so I can at least see her. I keep whistling and keep calling out to her. Sometimes she pops up and then sometimes she disappears. I can’t help but wonder if there are scary things to her behind the deep rock. And exactly how long am I actually going to do this for? Can I even leave at this point without knowing she is safe? 

I am not sure how much time passed, but it felt like a long time. Eventually I see her come out again and look up to try climb out. I am encouraging her to keep going. If only she could just realize that going with the flow of the stream, will help get her out of this mess. But she is obviously scared, and I don’t blame her. The stream is fast and there are all kinds of dangers in the way. But it is the only real possibility here. The only way I can scoop her up is if she is somewhere I can reach her. I cannot reach her where she is. 

Anyway, bless her little brave heart. She tries to climb up the slippery rock once again and this time she falls into the stream. And just like that, there was hope and we were off! I run across the bridge, trying to keep my eye on where she ends up. At times she is swimming and then times where she is caught up in the flow of the current. It was really funny to watch. At one point she goes down this tiny waterfall, which I could see scared her. She turned around and tried to go back up upstream. I had a little chuckle, because I knew she would figure out the impossibility of that sooner or later. Regardless, I found myself cheering her on. Smart enough to see the big fallen tree coming up off to the right, she climbs up on top of it. Things are still a little uncertain, but at least now she is on solid ground.

I told her how proud of her I was and that she was such a big girl. I keep whistling, hoping to encourage her to climb up to where I am. But I soon realize that she is staying put. She was shaking and scared, and that experience was probably something she needed to rest from. It was clear that she needed to take a minute and collect herself. I decide to climb down the small cliff about halfway – to build her a bridge. I grabbed 3 large branches which had fallen to the ground and put together something that resembled a bridge. But she is not having any of it. As much as I am calling and trying to encourage her to come on up, it is not happening.

I re-assess the situation, and while it is not completely safe, I figured it was safe enough because I couldn’t leave her. I climb down, and with the support of a deeply rooted fallen tree, I reached for her and scooped her up. I put her underneath my neck right away where it is warm and started talking to her. I told her that I was so proud of her and that she did it. This time she was not crying. She just settled in quietly.

Not totally sure what I should do next, and not really wanting to miss out on the fact that I just drove 20 minutes here to take a walk – I thought maybe I will take her with me, and we will go see the lake together and sort it all out afterwards. Besides, what else does she have going on today anyway? I am her only hope at this point, and a walk would be good for both of us. And who knows, maybe there is some random chance that when we arrive to the lake, we will be lucky enough to find some relatives of hers or possibly some adult Canadian Geese who can help. 

As we get closer to the clearing, she starts to get anxious and fluttery in my hands; her little baby feet fluttering. Where she was once quiet, she is now making her little cry again. I think to myself, is it because we are arriving at the lake, and she wants to go to the water? At the same time, I can see through the trees that there are 2 adult Canadian Geese relatively close by. I mean, the lake that I am visiting is massive. What are the chances that those are her folks? I decide to speak to her on a whim to experiment and see if she would understand me through the sound vibration of my words.

“I know that you want to go down. I promise I will let you down once we get closer to the water, because the last time I did this prematurely, it didn’t work out to well for either of us.”

I swear to God, she stopped chirping.

We finally make it to the full clearing, and she has gone wild with excitement by this point. These 2 adult Canadian Geese are calling out too. Were they calling out for her? I wasn’t sure at first, but they were. She could hear their sound before I could, and that is why she was so excited earlier. I think to myself, could these really be her parents? Like, really? What are the chances of that? When Canadian Geese honk, how far does that sound travel to each other? It seemed really wonderful to me. I put her down, but since I am faster than her, I get to the water before she does. I see 2 baby goslings next to these parents that look identical to her. A sigh of disbelief! At this point, she has gone completely nuts with excitement and runs to the water to see them. I pull out my phone just in time to take a video of her reuniting with them.

As I now sit here on the park bench looking out where they last were, I realize that the last 2-hours have reminded me of a very valuable lesson. Maybe you might need to hear the lesson too. Don’t be afraid to go with the flow in life and allow it to carry you downstream where you are meant to be. It might be scary at first, and you might think you are not big enough or strong enough, but you are. As the incredible Abraham Hicks says, everything you want in life is downstream. Stop trying to swim upstream. Pick up your boat, turn it around, and let the natural current of the universe carry you to where you are meant to be. Oh, and one more thing. The words you say to each other and speak into the Universe – matters, because each word carries a vibration, and that vibration should come from a place of love.

The Garden of Eden is a Consciousness

My heart. ♥️

Not ‘quite’ so city soft anymore, hey Dad? ♥️??

Jacqualine xo

P.S. I took a few videos and photos from the day. To view them all, visit Instagram page: @jaya_meditation and check out the videos on my new YouTube channel: Jacqualine Haller