When I was very small, long before my current neighborhood was anything but a copse of trees, Meadowlark Gardens were still the farm they started out as and we knew it as "Feed-the-Ducks Park." We would take the heels of our loaves of bread with us, sit by the pond, and toss bits to the ducks. One day, like a black-masked biker gang, the Canada Geese moved in. They'd crowd us, hissing and snapping, edging the poor ducks out until they abandoned the park entirely. Eventually, we too left the park.
Now the park is a botanical garden center and we live across the street from it. We walk the perimeter trail pretty frequently, but rarely venture inside as dogs are not allowed. On Sunday, during a momentary break in the ominous clouds, we ambled over. Now that I'm larger than they are, I find I don't mind the geese too much. This guy was hanging out near his nesting mate. Sadly, their eggs have probably been compromised to keep them from hatching, so no fuzzy goslings. Another pond nearby sometimes has goslings, but the only goose left over from the winter flock is a single mate-less fellow I call Lonesome.
Yeah, I don't mind the geese.
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