Snow Goose

Snow Goose Each morning as the sun inches it way over Sharp Top Mountain, unveiling its palette of brilliant colors, I watch intently as a lone snow goose gracefully strolls onto the canvas. Unlike its cousins, the boisterous Canadian geese who descend on the lake like Japanese kamikaze pilots on a suicide mission, the snow goose is quiet and solemn, almost regal, its solid white plumage reflecting off the translucent water. Its likeness distorted by the occasional ripple from an smallmouth bass or crappie that pokes its head out of the water to greet the new day. With the elegance of a figure skater, it glides to the same place near a wooden foot bridge, and sits patiently. As though it is waiting for a lost lover, or cherishing a precious memory.