Yesterday, upon arriving home from the golf course where I work, a black raven seemed to be conversing at me, hopping along the tops of of the buildings along the path I walk from my car to my residence. At the time, I thought it had to do with the parcel I was carrying and the black birds hunger. When I got inside I unpacked my fruity feast and didn't register that this time I had packed black napkins instead of the usual white. I remember noting the color in the bar and thinking that someone dropped the ball placing them out. Today, saw a very ominous turn of events with the complete disappearance of Big Bird. I call him that because he's probably the largest white goose in the flock which hangs around the ponds at the golf course. He is also the loudest, most obnoxious, and in a very strange way most consciously intelligent goose I've ever met. On many days in the last couple of months, he's literally hounded me throughout my day acting in ways fully contradictive to good common goose sense, persisting in his squawking and butting his beak where it could so easily be damaged if I wasn't paying close attention to his welfare. Big Bird has a posse of several more geese and a couple of ducks which accompany him as a group making this group a two set group, Big Bird and the posse. They don't travel together but they are never far away from each other.
Big Bird has a sponsor at the golf course, one of the old geezers, and quite the king of obnoxiousness himself. I think Ray actually feels a rare affinity for the Big Bird's raucous behavior because it so closely characterizes his own nonending squawking quips which are pretensious and boisterous attempts at making put downs of the worst negative kind of sarcasm you might hopefully never encounter. Once you see through the surface layer of his personality however, the game is on to see how hard you can piss on his game while he seems all to content to simply keep a steady salvo for you (me) to deal with.
Given my understanding of Ray and the harmonies involved it doesn't surprise me that Big Bird desired more intimate contact with me. Who knows how to speak Geese or goose or geek even? With the volume of utterings coming from the Big Bird though you'd think he was organizing a plan to take over the whole fowl kingdom right here in Chula Vista's Municipal Golf Course.
While I was at work today, another one of Big Bird's biggest allies, an Ambassador named Jimmie, stopped me and informed me Big Bird was MIA. As we ruminated over the possibilities the day took on a rather forlorn hue as well. On the way home, I continued to think about Big Bird. Then, as I stopped my car at my residence near the water in Imperial Beach, I remembered the signs from the day before. Could it be?
The symbology caught my breath at that moment, and hours later, continues to try well enough to keep me hovering in a zone of pre-sadness. Thankfully, I have a couple of co-workers who have cultivated something of an unbending optimism in situations like this who I managed to draw into the conversation before I left. Their consensus is that he will pop up very soon FOR SURE! For now I am doing my best simply to remember their POV and be patient at least for today, and take tomorrow when she comes.
Big Bird has a sponsor at the golf course, one of the old geezers, and quite the king of obnoxiousness himself. I think Ray actually feels a rare affinity for the Big Bird's raucous behavior because it so closely characterizes his own nonending squawking quips which are pretensious and boisterous attempts at making put downs of the worst negative kind of sarcasm you might hopefully never encounter. Once you see through the surface layer of his personality however, the game is on to see how hard you can piss on his game while he seems all to content to simply keep a steady salvo for you (me) to deal with.
Given my understanding of Ray and the harmonies involved it doesn't surprise me that Big Bird desired more intimate contact with me. Who knows how to speak Geese or goose or geek even? With the volume of utterings coming from the Big Bird though you'd think he was organizing a plan to take over the whole fowl kingdom right here in Chula Vista's Municipal Golf Course.
While I was at work today, another one of Big Bird's biggest allies, an Ambassador named Jimmie, stopped me and informed me Big Bird was MIA. As we ruminated over the possibilities the day took on a rather forlorn hue as well. On the way home, I continued to think about Big Bird. Then, as I stopped my car at my residence near the water in Imperial Beach, I remembered the signs from the day before. Could it be?
The symbology caught my breath at that moment, and hours later, continues to try well enough to keep me hovering in a zone of pre-sadness. Thankfully, I have a couple of co-workers who have cultivated something of an unbending optimism in situations like this who I managed to draw into the conversation before I left. Their consensus is that he will pop up very soon FOR SURE! For now I am doing my best simply to remember their POV and be patient at least for today, and take tomorrow when she comes.
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