A Roadside Alarm
The adult goose stretched her wings wide across the curb, planting both webbed feet against the concrete edge of an iron storm grate while cars sped past just inches away.
Down between the rusted metal bars, a cluster of yellow downy goslings scrambled over wet debris, craning their necks toward the daylight above.
The mother leaned down, pressing her beak close to the gaps to answer their high-pitched chirps with sharp, urgent honks.
A white utility truck pulled onto the shoulder with hazard lights blinking.
A woman stepped out from the truck, setting down an orange traffic cone behind the vehicle to divert oncoming traffic away from the curb.
Lifting The Heavy Iron
Pulling heavy leather work gloves over her hands, she knelt on the asphalt and peered directly down through the metal slots.
The mother goose stepped back only a few inches onto the grass, keeping her wings half-spread as she tracked every movement.
A highway maintenance worker in a neon vest joined her, carrying a long steel pry bar.
He jammed the beveled edge of the tool into the narrow seam beneath the iron grate and threw his weight backward.
The woman gripped the far side of the frame with both gloved hands, pulling upward as the metal scraped free from the concrete surround.
Together, they hoisted the heavy grate onto the asphalt, opening a direct path into the shallow concrete basin.
Reaching Into The Darkness
The worker knelt low on both knees, spreading a clean green towel over the grass right beside the open curb.
He reached his gloved hands down into the shaft, wrapping his fingers gently around the small bodies one by one.
He lifted two chirping goslings up into the light and placed them onto the towel, where they huddled against the soft fabric.
He reached back into the drain, scooping out the remaining babies until the entire brood was resting on the grass.
The mother goose walked forward, her neck lowering as she made soft clucking sounds toward the bundle of yellow feathers.
A Safe Walk Home
The goslings scrambled off the towel and ran directly toward her, tumbling over the blades of green grass.
She spread both wings wide, tucking the small birds underneath her belly feathers until only their heads poked out between her flanks.
The two rescuers stepped back toward the roadside curb, resting their hands on their hips with smiles on their faces.
The mother goose turned toward the shore of the nearby pond, leading the single-file line of goslings down the grassy slope into the evening sunlight.
Know someone who loves an animal rescue story? Send this their way.
