Lessons in Life

Not many natural bodies of water in this area of the state are large enough to accommodate nesting grounds for ducks or geese, but we do have a great many man-made ponds and holding pools. Most of these artificial ponds are called "landscaping water features," (a term I hate) but they provide nesting opportunities for wild water fowl, and the birds do use them to their advantage. I recall one long ago spring when I saw a pair of loons swimming about in a large pool of standing rain water following a heavy downpour. The water had flooded a sizable area of a growing cornfield and I remember hoping the loons would not be mislead into believing for very long that 18 inch tall corn plants were suitable substitutes for the cat tails or reeds in a natural lake.

This spring, not too far from a large building which houses corporate offices and a "call center," a pair of Canada geese have set up house keeping near a holding pond. The young family consists of the father gander, the mother and five young goslings. Employees from the office building have watched anxiously as the couple built their nest barely out of sight under a small pine tree near the pond, and proceeded to spend nearly four weeks tending the nest. The gander was particularly devoted, standing guard while his mate incubated her eggs. In due time, the eggs all hatched and careful observations (from a safe distance) revealed five tiny, downy babies. One sunny day about two weeks ago the babies were taken out for their first look at the world. They paraded down the paved entry way of the parking lot, Mother in the lead, Father bringing up the rear, and tiny babies struggling to form a properly imprinted row, little gosling feet twinkling on tippy toe as they followed Mom across the asphalt drive. Faithful to his species, the gander protects against any and all comers who dare get too close. When we stopped our car to admire his family, the brave father stretched to his full height, spread his wings, and stalked, hissing threats, toward our idling van. He knows no fear, this one, and we worry that in this artificial environment, he'll tackle something that cannot recognize or respect the depths of his devotion to his brood. Their territory is very near a four lane highway, and cars pass constantly along the edge of the pond at the entrance to the corporate parking lot. One thinks of the family of Red Tail Hawks who set up housekeeping on a tall apartment building in Manhattan. Some residents resented the inconvenience of the hawk's housekeeping residue and tried to force the raptors away, but after angry protests by a majority of Manhattan residents, the barriers were removed and the nesting pair returned to their traditional ledge. No one will harass these Midwestern geese in an attempt to force them away, but their nesting territory is full of more dangers than they would expect to encounter in a natural habitat.

Despite the obstacles presented in their chosen environment, these five babies have seemed to grow exponentially, and I knew the day was not too far away when the goslings would be introduced to the water for their first swim ...

I found myself wondering and worrying what would happen if they faltered momentarily and began to sink instead of swimming? Would their parents know how to save them? I didn't see the inaugural entry into the water, but I did arrive in time to see the entire family as they executed their initial promenade across the width of the pond. Mom in the lead, five babies in a perfect row behind her, and Dad bringing up the rear. I stopped the van, whipped out my camera, but not in time to catch the entire processional. Dad, it seems, spied an "interloper goose" on the banks of the private family swimming hole, and lifted out of the water, was rushing toward the intruder, hissing and flapping his best display of intimidation behavior. He was back in the water in short order, and together, he and Mom escorted the brood to a corner of the pond near the stoned-in shore and here began the diving lesson. First Mom, and then Dad, upended head down into the water, tails and feet completely suspended above the surface. The babies watched with a great deal of attention and astonished interest as both Mom and Dad submerged and then reappeared. Finally, amid great flapping, splashing and flailing of wings, each baby experimented with "the art of the dive." I held my breath watching, because the babies didn't "upend," they simply dove, completely disappearing beneath the surface. Would they know how to come back up, would Mom and Dad be able to rescue them? I needn't have worried. The surface of the of the water where the babies had submerged became calm and smooth, and then I noticed that both parents had their necks stretched out and curved in a manner which allowed their heads to rest on the water. In no more than the blink of an eye, the heads disappeared under the water and reappeared with a baby goose in tow!


The diving lesson continued for only a short period of time, no more than four or five minutes, and when all the babies were once again on the surface, "Father Goose" swam away, leading the kids to a place on the edge of the water where they could easily exit the pond. The kids took a little while to settle down from the excitement of their first lesson in submersion. As they followed Mom and Dad, they'd "dunk," then lift their heads and chests up out of the water, flap their little wings and generally splash some water around - for all the world as though there laughing with exhilaration over the accomplishment of their first "dive." "Hey! Did you see me?" "Yes! But did you see me? I was the best!" "Oh you silly boys, Mom had to save both of you! We girls were much better than either of you!"Watching these two parents work together to care for their family is a study in their ability to adapt to an environment that may not be what they'd like, but does offer the necessities. It is a salute to the idea that the "times they are a'changing, and we're going with what we've got." It is also a reminder that Canada geese (as well as other geese) are monogamous, apparently mating for life. They return to the same nesting grounds season after season, and the young stay with their parents for nearly a year, sometimes until the next nesting season begins. It isn't unlikely that the "lone goose" intruder watching the swimming lesson from the banks of the pool was a hold over from last year's clutch of babies. If he didn't find a mate during the winter migration, it might be natural for him to stay with his parents. Within the past few days, we've seen him with a new female goose (mystery woman), so perhaps true love has dropped into his life, literally from the skies. Knowing that Canadas tend to return to the same wintering grounds as well, makes me wonder if the large flocks of north bound geese I saw on Christmas Day last year were all relatives of one degree or another. I'm sure that at least some of the individual "V" formations contained family members. I also wonder for how many generations these miraculous birds follow the same migratory routes, heeding the pull toward the North and back again to the South, all in the proper season and time. They are great navigators these Canada geese, and they know how to work together to raise a famiy, how to stay together in the air, traveling safely and easily. They also seem to understand the value of identifying basic north. Lessons in life, which, when well learned, serve well over a lifetime



As a last tidbit of whimsy,, almost an afterthought, one thinks of the archetypal figure of "Mother Goose."No one seems to know or agree on her origins, or her true meaning in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes she's a grandmotherly figure, surrounded by children listening to her nursery rhymes and fairy tales.


At other times, she's a crone figure almost witch like in appearance. This Mother Goose
wears what appears to be a wizard's hat, as she flies past the moon.

"There was an old woman tossed up in a basket
Seventeen times as high as the moon.
And where she was going I could not help ask it
For under her arm she carried a broom"

But the best and most beloved depiction is as what she really is, a loving, nurturing "Mother Goose."