Perfection Including Geese

By Peter Bowden



The day was meant to run like clockwork. The flowers had been set just so, the chairs lined up in military precision, and the groom had even managed to tie his tie without swearing. But then came the geese. No one had invited them, yet there they were—eight loud, self-important birds strutting down the aisle as if they were on the program. The bride froze. The groom laughed. The best man muttered something about “avian sabotage.”

The minister tried to keep reading, but his voice cracked into a chuckle. The ring bearer—seven years old and carrying more sugar than sense—took it upon himself to shoo the geese away. This worked for about three seconds before they chased him in return, sending him back up the aisle in a blur of little black shoes and squeals. The guests howled with laughter, phones out, capturing every moment that would surely live forever online.

And through it all—over the honking, the giggles, the unexpected bird parade—two people stood side by side, hands clasped, eyes locked. The minister eventually found his place, the rings were exchanged, and vows spoken over the sound of geese in the distance. It wasn’t perfect, not by any standard measure. But it was theirs. And in the middle of the chaos, with laughter still rolling through the crowd, it was clear that this wedding would be remembered for exactly what it was—pure, beautiful, and a little ridiculous, just like love itself.


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