The geese were out in numbers today. As I turned a corner onto the road home the family with five goslings began to make its way across the road. Mama, one, two, three, and four waddled their way from one patch of grass, across the tarmac, and onto the next patch of grass, safe and sound.

Papa stood tall and vigilant in the middle of my lane as they crossed, and then he made his way to the exact center in that dark space between the yellow stripes. He kept his attention on the fifth goose, who worked like the dickens to get onto the road. He is lame in one leg, and he struggled to make his way off the curb. He hobbled his way across the road and used his wings to lift himself onto the grass with the rest of the family. All the while, papa did not move. He was as erect and impassive as a hanging judge.

Lines of cars formed in both lanes. This waiting took a few minutes, but nobody showed any signs of impatience. A beautiful moment. The father did not move, even after five was in the grass. He waited until he was good and sure all was well before he brought up the rear.

Geese are the only animals I can think of who don't rush out of the road when humans come rolling along. They proudly fearlessly hold their ground.

What's love? That. And it's a beautiful thing.