Mulling things on my morning ramble with Storm, the family’s mixed Lab.
I was right on Monday. The goslings had hatched. I just couldn’t find them.
Yesterday morning, I found the first, a pair of them tucked between two adult Canada geese by the island on the town pond.
The surprising part was none of the other pairs had goslings by them. Our town pond usually has six or seven nesting pairs.
And the hatch is remarkably close for all pairs, most springs.
This morning, in stark contrast to the racket of Monday, it was very quiet. Having done this ramble with the family meathead (first the late Flash and now Storm) for a decade, that meant there were more goslings somewhere.
I found another pair with just one.
But as quiet as the other pairs were, I suspect more goslings are somewhere. Maybe hiding in the weeds.
I am gone for a couple days to see the high school bass fishing championship. By my next ramble around the town pond, I bet there will be many proud parents.
Wanting a photo, I wandered around the town pond late this morning with our youngest. While I was trying to take photos without intruding, Sam started doing what 5-year-olds do: throw stuff in the water.
Then he asked to stay longer and forget going to the park.
Now, for somebody in my position, those were sweet words.
So, I sat and watched geese, and kept a half watch on Sam, just to make sure he did not become too intimately acquainted with the water.
And he didn’t, but worked himself into more difficult sections of the shoreline, much to my pleasure. It made me proud to see him want to do that stuff.
Then I thought a turkey gobbled on the far north end of the pond. Not once or twice, but several times. And the geese seemed to be responding.
It was time.
Start hearing turkeys on the edge of the town pond, it’s time to head back to places with electronic devises.
