Friday, December 30, 2005
On my way to work, on Central Park North, there was some poor goose that had somehow leapt the wall and was now walking along the sidewalk. I tried to take some pictures of the bewildered and incongruous beast – nothing good, couldn't get one where it faced me. I had some imbecilic thought that it would be oh so clever to have a picture of a goose scrutinizing a fire hydrant, a goose waiting for the light to change. I wondered, too, what would become of this thing, if it would find its way back to the safe, grassy shores of the Meer.
It walked out into the street.
A bus pulled to its stop then pulled away slowly, waiting for the goose to go. The driver gave a little honk. Eventually the goose was on the other side of the street, standing still as cars crept up and gingerly drove around.
Some guy walked out of a building on the north side and examined the scene sternly. He wore some kind of security guard uniform.
"Yo!" He shouted at the goose. "N— betta get outta da street!"
Labels:
Central Park,
Nature,
New York City,
Overheard