DAY OF THE GOSLINGS

   I call today “the arrival of the goslings”. For the past two years, we’ve lived along a pond, fed from a natural spring. After the winter goes on its way, Canada Geese drop by, and stay to raise their families. Many in our neighborhood are not fond of the geese. “Messy”, they say, and that is probably right, but for me, it’s an exciting sight to have large, wild birds with long, elegant necks parading past my window.  This morning, I saw three babies following after mama and papa. The goslings were still yellow feathered, but I could see an overshadowing of brown and grey. Today, the geese settled in down by the water. Later, they nibbled on grass and bugs and apparently lily buds, since some stalks were snapped off when I checked after they were gone. I also had a lovely, purple flowered stalk by the back door, and when I checked, it was gone too. Maybe next year, this illusive bloom will receive a name, if I get to it before the geese do. Eventually, the birds left via the pond, with wide V’s trailing behind them. It always makes me sad when they desert me.