Some faunas, in midst of the flora, surrounding me.
The client, at the project site I am presently deputed to, has put me up at this place, not too far from it’s plant. It has a nice, cozy, quaint feel to it, the kind where one can imagine a book writer setting up base, to "escape from the hustle & bustle" & get work done. No such work I do, but it does provide some much needed solace, in the evening, returning back after a hard day at site. A welcome departure from the otherwise cold, impersonal hotels, I’m normally put up in.
Among its attractions are a gaggle of Geese, the owners have kept on premise. The day I reached site, a few weeks ago, found a clack of five chilling outside my room. It initially mislead me into believing that they were there to "welcome" me. Only a little later did I realize, deflating my sense of "lordship", that, in fact they were guarding the sixth, a Mother Goose, that had laid eggs outside my room. So, while the Mother sat atop “them eggs”, incubating them, the rest of the cohorts stood guard, protecting her.
Early morning, last Tuesday, very early, I was abruptly awoken by the simultaneous quacking of all the Geese. Peering out of the window, I was greeted by this endearing sight of three cute, little yellow Goslings, having just emerged out into the world, fluttering their tiny winglets, under the protective, comforting wings of Mommy. They remained in place that day.
The next day, as I emerged out of my room in the morning, found that they too had emerged out of their corner. They looked like one happy family. The adults appeared to form a protective ring around the newborns, who chirpily went about sensing the brand new world, of which they had become the newest entrants.
Over the past few days, the goslings, following their Mother, along with the rest of the clan have been venturing out further within the hotel’s premises, pecking on the ground, nibbling on the fresh vegetation, of which there are plentiful here.
Simple pleasures of life, watching the gift of Mother Nature, as they go about being themselves. Something to ponder about, I’d say.
There is also this little tyke, who has been the reason why twice I lost, then found, my socks here.