Uncertainty And Belief

Last Friday I was completing my morning ablutions when there was a knock on the front door. I put on some clothes and went to the front door to find that it was my neighbor Betsy who suggested in no uncertain terms that I go down to the lake…something about a goose she said.

My old farmhouse is on a small lake, so I headed out the door to the deck and was amazed to see about fifteen kids from the near- by exercise club and their leader, a guy with a kennel crate covered by a towel, a woman taking pictures of it all, and Betsy.

It seems that in early May, a Canada goose had been hit by a car along our road as s/he was trying to shepherd the goslings across the road to the lake. The driver had not stopped, and when Betsy came upon the scene, she got the goose to the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center at the University of Minnesota.

The goose had mended successfully and was now ready to be liberated. The door to the kennel cage was opened, and after a short wait, the goose walked out, and slid into the lake.

We all waited to see what would happen next, and we didn’t have to wait long. The goose swam out about twenty feet and then flapped its wings and once airborne flew just above the water off to the East.

The group lingered, chattering away about this rare success – most creatures wouldn’t survive an injury like this without someone like Betsy – about the insensitive lout who had struck a living creature and driven on, and about whether the goose would find its mate and their goslings again.

It was one of those cool, quiet, and sunny summer mornings, like the ones you treasure from childhood, a morning suddenly filled with optimism and hope. A few minutes later, silence had returned to the shore.

Later on in the day, I was busy repainting the front door; I declared a coffee break and poured myself a cup in the kitchen and was taking my first sip when I looked out over the deck toward the shore.

And there at the edge of the lawn was a pair of Canada geese and eight goslings, all foraging for food.

Now I don’t know whether this was our injured goose with his newly found mate and their flock. I’ll never know.

But what, exactly, do I need to know? After all, does not uncertainty help create belief?