The goose under the coloured bridge
Beneath the bridge, in a pocket of stillness layered with shadows and spray paint, a single Canada goose stands like it knows something we don’t. The concrete above hums with the weight of the city, but down here, time softens. The wall behind the bird is drenched in colour—bright tags and fading murals, declarations scrawled in moments of rebellion or longing. The goose, almost out of place and yet entirely at home, is unbothered. It stands in a frame of accidental beauty, where nature and human markings overlap in quiet harmony.
In Winnipeg, geese are constant—threading through parking lots, interrupting traffic, crowding parks with their slow confidence. They’re part of the everyday, and still somehow wild. Back home, we might’ve seen them differently—seen food, not symbols. But here, this one feels symbolic. A figure under a bridge, surrounded by urban art, standing in a space not meant for watching. And yet, we do. We leave the image in colour, not out of habit, but because the moment asked for it.
