Wild Geese Flying

I love geese - well, I love the Canadas that hang around here - and fly around here. Those big white farmyard geese are another thing altogether.

One of the things that I keep in my permanent memory file is the morning that I arrived at the high school on a grey foggy morning (pretty rare around here) and heard the sound of geese flying - many geese. I stood there beside my car for fifteen minutes and watched and listened as hundreds of skeins of geese flew overhead, probably on their way to the Bosque refuge. They faded in and out of the fog, but the calling was continuous. One of the truly wild sights and sounds that we may experience even yet.

I guess we are sort of on the edge between summer and winter haunts for the Canadas, because we have a population that remains here year round. They commute from the big puddle over by one of the junior highs (excuse me, middle schools) to the water habitat at the zoo every morning at about the time I am leaving, At least, that is where I thought they were going - as it happens, the zoo backs up to the city golf course, and some clever fowl have taken up residence at one of the water hazards.

One morning, not many days ago, when construction had closed the direct route from there to here, I drove past the golf course and saw families out there with goslings. I suppose, except for the occasional hook or slice, that is generally a more peaceful environment for raising children than the zoo.