During peak hours, when cafés and restaurants were packed to the rafters, a girl shunned the indoors and instead chose to take refuge in the arms of Mother Nature — that was as long as there was a cup of fresh-brewed coffee to be found. Such moments called for a stroll through the sprawling gardens of Wendriff Park. 340 acres of lush greenery and historic features, its winding trails adorned with numerous bronze statues honoring the nation’s best and brightest. Whichever path one set foot on would eventually lead to the park’s centerpiece: an idyllic pond with a giant birch tree sitting on an island in the middle.
Situated right next to it was a petite mobile coffee bar serving hot drinks and snacks. Imagine a Vespa attached to a cart the size of a Hot Dog stand, but instead of a container of steaming hot wieners, it carried a professional-grade espresso machine. While its moderate size didn’t allow for the most extensive selection of beverages, a purist like Juliet was perfectly well cared for. Her usual order consisted of nothing more than a small Americano — black, without sugar — and a bag of pretzels. The latter wasn’t so much for her enjoyment as it was for feeding the plethora of animals that gathered by the pond. Most stunning of whom, the Great Blue Heron, gracefully wading through the shallows. A testament to the beauty and majesty of the avian kingdom.
The peaceful scenery, however, was nothing more than a thinly veiled facade, as all hell broke loose once Juliet tossed the first piece of pretzel into the water. From that moment on, it was everybody for themselves. Like a screaming mob of Black Friday shoppers brawling over the last flat-screen TV. At times, they were too busy fighting one another to realize that one of the fish had already snatched the prize away from right under their feet. This wasn’t the only thing to be left unnoticed. Lurking beneath the surface was a malicious predator, patiently waiting for its time to strike. A creature the locals aptly called the “Monster of Loch Wendriff”. Now a beast of its size was not attracted by a handful of pieces of dough soaking on the pond’s surface, but rather the flock of birds trying to get in on the action.
While a girl had not yet had the pleasure of being subjected to one of its atrocities, according to an article in the local newspaper, its favorite bird to snack on was the unsuspecting pigeons watching from the sidelines. After a public outcry of bird watchers and concerned parents, just last week city council announced their plans to relocate the five-foot-long catfish to Redwood National Park. If only they would show the same level of care for the gang of raccoons that plagued her apartment complex. Perhaps I should plant a compelling little story myself, she pondered, her head tilted askew.
© Kilian Kukelka 2023-09-01