Silly Little Goose

Monday evening's pond rippled in gold as the sun set. At least twenty geese were gathered for dinner at the local IHOP (that's the International House of Plants, of course), and I paused to watch for a bit. 

I will admit I found their habits to be a bit silly. They chewed loudly (is it called "chewing" when teeth are absent?) and they looked rather ridiculous when diving; their bright white hind quarters jutted up in the most unbecoming way as they strained to fetch at roots.

At one point, virtually every neck was bent beneath the surface of the water in search of a tasty morsel. I thought of a phrase that I often used when speaking to my children when they were small. "You silly little goose!"    

And then my eye caught the neck that wasn't bent. It was a male, off to the side. Motionless, he faced intently away from the diner. At first I wondered at his lack of interest, and then it hit me. 

There was nothing lacking in his posture whatsoever. He was standing guard. 

A month or two ago while I was walking the pond, I stopped to visit with an older woman. She was out watering her pond-side plants, and we naturally started talking about the ducks and geese that flocked to "her" back yard. In a heavy Russian accent, she told me about their various habits, one of which she very much admired. 

She happened to be out one evening, and the geese were quietly, contentedly feeding. Except for the male. He was on guard. And it was a good thing. For a coyote was nearby, watching every move, stalking, waiting. The male goose was even more vigilant and intimidating, and the coyote finally gave up and sauntered away. He didn't stand a chance against the watchful, protective Canada goose. The other geese -- the "women and children" -- continued to rest and feed in confident peace.

The woman finished her story with firm conviction, "This is what our men need to be like!"

Her story immediately came to mind as I admired the watchful goose. I started to look and listen more carefully, and indeed the pond was alive with other sounds. Sounds which are perfectly common to my ears, but probably terrifying to a pond bird. The air was filled with the yips and yaps of neighborhood dogs. Several were out walking with their owners, and it became perfectly clear that Our Goose wasn't going to relax any time soon. 

He was going to stand guard. And his family would spend another evening in peace and protection, trusting their lives to his care.

Maybe geese aren't so silly, after all.