A Birthday Walk That Got Completely Out of Hand (In the Best Way) - May 2, 2026

There’s something about May.

It’s baby season.

It’s bee season.

It’s “drop everything and go look at tiny fluffy creatures” season.

And on my birthday, there was only one plan:

Find the goslings.

I had heard they were at a local park, and honestly, I couldn’t get there fast enough. Baby animals wait for no one… except apparently, bedtime.

Because the park had other plans for me.

Mission: Goslings

I found them.

On a tiny island.

Completely inaccessible.

With two very alert, very serious parents.

Smart.

Because I went in the evening, most of the babies were already tucked in for the night in what I can only describe as the most adorable cuddle puddle I’ve ever witnessed.

Just a pile of soft, yellow fluff, all curled into each other like tiny living marshmallows.

A couple of brave little ones were still wobbling around, clearly not ready to commit to bedtime yet.

And then there was the moment I found myself completely captivated by a tiny gosling… waddling away from me, showing off the fluffiest little yellow butt imaginable.

I stood there, camera in hand, fully aware that I had become the kind of person who gets emotional over a baby bird’s backside and honestly? No regrets.

Because in that tiny, fuzzy, wiggly moment, there was nothing but pure, uncomplicated joy.

Seeing them that small, still bright yellow, still figuring out their legs, felt like witnessing something pure and fleeting.

And yes… I would protect them with my life. From a respectful distance. Because their parents absolutely would not hesitate.

As I wandered further, I came across two turtles finishing up their evening sun session.

Perched on a log.

Surrounded by lily pads.

Absolutely radiating main character energy.

People walked by. Cameras clicked. Life happened.

The turtles?

Unbothered. Unmoved. Unimpressed.

Honestly… goals.

There’s something deeply humbling about watching a turtle fully commit to doing absolutely nothing.

And then, because nature has a sense of humor, a seagull landed directly on the turtles’ log.

No hesitation.

It leaned down and took a drink of water… while balancing.

On a log.

Like it had trained for this moment its entire life.

I actually laughed out loud.

Because of course. Of course this is happening on my birthday.

Further along, the heron rookery was in full “we have deadlines” mode. Branches were being collected. Nests were being upgraded. Everyone was busy. It felt like watching a very serious home renovation show, Heron Edition.

I managed to snap a photo of one perfectly balanced on a branch…

…who then immediately turned and gave me the classic heron butt shot.

Thank you. Truly. This is why I carry a camera.

Somewhere between the goslings and the herons, I found myself stopping… and looking down.

Really looking.

What I came across felt almost prehistoric, massive leaves stretching out like green umbrellas, their veins thick and defined, each one telling its own story.

The plant was huge. Like, “did I just step into a jungle?” huge.

And then there was the stem. Covered in tiny spikes and textures that you’d never notice unless you slowed down enough to see them. Up close, it didn’t even feel like a plant anymore—it felt architectural. Intentional. Wild.

And the buds… tightly clustered, bursting with color and life, like they were just waiting for their moment.

I later learned this towering, almost prehistoric plant was rhubarb, something I’ve seen my whole life, but never really seen until that moment.”

We just have to stop long enough to notice it.

As the evening settled in, the park softened.

Bluebells were everywhere, light purple, deep purple, scattered across the ground like nature had gone a little wild with a paintbrush.

It was one of those quiet moments where everything just slows down.

And you remember to breathe.

And then…A male peacock decided it was time. Time to shine. Time to perform. Time to absolutely steal the show.

He fanned out his feathers, blues, greens, soft peach tones, all glowing in the evening light. Then came the shake… that subtle shimmer that feels almost hypnotic.

It was bold. Dramatic. Slightly extra.

Honestly? I respected it.

And I’m choosing to believe that performance was specifically for me.

To wrap up the evening, a Canada goose couple (aka cobra chickens) casually wandered over to where my Aunt and I were sitting. We had been feeding ducks…they had other ideas.

They moved in like they owned the place—which, to be fair, they probably do.

And I just sat there.

Watching. Laughing. Letting the moment settle.

The day started with breakfast with my brother.

Moved into a slow, easy rhythm of errands and puttering.

And ended here, with goslings, turtles, herons, flowers, and a peacock who clearly understands timing.

It wasn’t extravagant.

It wasn’t planned to perfection.

But it was… exactly right.

I felt full.

Grateful for the birthday wishes.

Grateful for the day.

Grateful for these small, wild, unexpected moments that somehow mean everything.

And most of all…

Grateful to spend it simply, just me, Finn, My Aunt and the world around us.