Oh Canada goose! How often have I cursed your multitudes. You spread across grassy fields leaving slippery bullets everywhere. One woman and her small dog can barely navigate without falling into the filth. I have wished you into a stew pot or the centerpiece of a Dickens Christmas dinner.
Yet I cannot look at you without smiling. Sitting alone, at the highest point on the roof, you look down on humans walking the paths in Crystal Springs. You cackle and croak, offering us a cranky tongue lashing perhaps, or quoting scripture and spreading the Good News. Maybe you are cursing us, wishing us into stew pots.
You are a cocky fellow, confident and handsome Without your friends and relations, I see how beautiful you are, a living bright-eyed study in black and white and cream. You have something to say and you are a fine dressing for the top of that roof.
I’ll curse you and your friends and relations again, but this morning I bow to your singular spirit.
Susan,
You are a talented and compassionate writer.
I’m alway thankful that you read, Melanie!
Ah, yes. They are a part of the changing landscape here; like with the raccoons, our reactions sometimes get conflicted. Thank you for the nature glimpse this morning.
Thank you Deborah!
Yes I agree!
Out at cascade locks there I’d a small island accessible by bridge from the parking lot. Those slippery droppings, at least part of the year can cover the entire island like a blanket of slippery snow. Not as pretty as snow though.
Nasty, yes, but isn’t this one gorgeous and sassy!
If they could only pick up after themselves. A couple of years ago, speeding down the Milwaukie expressway like the Dukes of Hazard with leaves drifting behind a goose came from the side, hit my bumper, thumpity thump under the car with feathers floating behind me instead of leaves. I had conflicting thoughts at that point. Was I glad or sad. They are a beautiful creature but when there are 546 of them in the school property behind me quaking and caring on.. OK, I did not count them. You can cancel this if you like Susan.
Once again, exactly my point! I love your stories Bruce
One more if I may. 6 years or so ago I was going to work on I-205 near the Clackamas river when a semi blasted his air horn with a hundred or so geese just above. It rained liked ****. Well, it was ****! The windshield wipers just made it worse with the sticky goose droppings. You can never carry enough wiper fluid! Where is the nearest car wash, if they will let you in?
Ha! That’s why I like one goose! Keep the stories coming Bruce I love them