That’s right, we’ve got a convention right in our backyard. I loved going to NCTE or IRC when I was teaching, but, I’m resentful that this goose convention was planned really close to our bedroom sliders without even Moi!
We live in Illinois, thirty miles from the best city in the world (according to my mother) and about two hours from the ‘Mighty Mississippi’ (I was so proud in second grade when I learned to spell it). Why won’t these goosey guys from Canada plan a convention in another beautiful habitat like Kansas City where there’s tasty barbeque or even southwest to ‘Sin City’ where a few of them can try out a new comedy act. The perfect place I think would probably be on the ‘Daytona Strip.’ The sound of the surf is so amazing, and I know those sunbathers would have some room for them on this beach (heck, I’m sure the Atlantic waters are still flowing free in Florida).
Every fall these geese awe us with their practice sessions of their famous V formation. But instead, of flying south like God taught them to do they decide that our small wetland area suits them even on many below zero days. And nights.
I know you are thinking, “Oh Nancy, why don’t you care more about these precious little honkers?”
Well, it’s not like I want a hunter to go out and massacre them in the dead of night. I can’t can’t gather my hunting friends because of legal issues they would incur. Here’s a new fact, my teaching friends…they are nocturnal, did you know? I’m guessing it’s the guys in the group having a party every night after the convention hours are over. They are up all day learning what to eat in the tundra. And at night they must somehow get a bit inebriated and get mad when their ‘girl’ gets too goose cozy with a new feathered friend.
And then they let the whole world know about it at one, two and three am.
And for the life of me this one I can’t figure out. What do they even eat when the lake is slick enough to skate on, and even fishermen have to cut holes in the ice to dip their lines in. But they must be eating something because they leave a ton of excrement behind (maybe more like two tons).
I’m sure I’ll get used to all this stuff after a time, we’ve only been here since July. People have told me that they don’t hear subway trains after a while. All I know is this. I can’t roll them over from their backs to their sides like I do with Dave on some occasions.
And don’t tell me to that I need to sing them all a sweet lullaby every night until they drift off calmly.
They won’t. I know because I’ve tried.