The sights, sounds, and smells of Fort Garry

On our routine run or walk in our Fort Garry neighborhood, we meet many familiar faces, some whose names we know and others not, that frequent the same route, schools, library, church, or grocery stores.

For a few weeks, running around Crescent Drive Park we, and many regulars observed the goose sitting on her nest of five eggs right next to the river trail. The birth announcement reached us before we made it to the park one day. One egg had hatched and everyone knew about it. With camera in hand, I ran to observe the new arrival, as did many others. I did not dare pass the nest that day because both parents stood watch and with hissing threats, protecting the ball of yellow fluff and four remaining eggs.

Other things to be observed that evening was the aroma of fresh decorative apple blossoms wafting in the air. A woman was birdwatching in the park and children happily blew dandelion puffs while a group of people played cricket on the green grass.

If you sat on a curb on South Drive you could hear the most crystal clear voice recital to piano accompaniment, and further along the way, if you came by at the right time, could watch the trapeze artists slacklining in between two trees in the front yard. As I rounded the bend near St. John’s-Ravenscourt, two young cyclists emerged from the woods where they had probably enjoyed the jumps near the river trails. A lonely doll sat in a box on the side of the road, leftover from Saturday’s free cycle day. Golfers teed off on the emerald green of Wildewood golf course. Neighbors visited in the middle of the street on Lyon, laughing and calling out to other neighbors, reluctantly making room for cars to pass.

None of these things are really newsworthy, except to inspire gratitude, and empathy for those on the evening news who do not have the opportunity to take a walk outside on a calm evening because violence rages on their streets or the air is too polluted to breathe deeply. The next day I went back to Crescent Drive Park to see if the rest of the eggs had hatched. An eerie quiet hung over the trail where the nest was.

The goose family had moved, leaving three eggs unhatched in the nest. That they had not all survived, saddened me. The next time I came by, the eggs were gone and the nest no longer recognizable, a stark reminder of the transitory nature of life and its sundry stages and challenges.

Helen Lepp Friesen is a community correspondent for Fort Garry. You can contact her at helenfriesen@hotmail.com