Part 1
A pleasantly warm, sunny morning, with a light northwest breeze, finds the two young goslings already actively foraging at the rocky end of the beach. At the sandy end, the four older goslings, their parents, and the attendant pair are all grooming. After some time, the family of four takes to the water, outside the exposed pilings, swimming along the beach toward the sandy part, just as another pair of geese approaches that area of the beach. Without hesitation, the young goslings’ father lifts off from the water, honking, to fly directly at the male of the pair of perceived transgressors. The intimidated male retreats, so the father then flies at the female, driving her off to follow her mate.
The young goslings and the female join the waiting male and they turn in the direction of the sandy section of the beach, the male in the lead. Nearing the beach, the male lowers his head, stretches his neck, opens his wings to their full extent, and seems to run across the water as he charges the male of the attendant pair at the edge of the river. Reacting immediately, the molting and therefore flightless male hastely withdraws in the face of the very flight-worthy assailant in the only direction possible, into the midst of the also flightless family of six. Whether only tolerated, or even accepted, when on the periphery, the male is not at all welcome when storming into the family group, sending the older goslings scurrying.
The goslings’ father’s reaction is to assail the inadvertent trespasser, seizing it by the wing with its bill, and frog-marching it out of the family’s territory, back the way it entered. However, that route takes them both directly among the family with the young goslings that is just about to come ashore. The male of that group enters the fray by leaping at the conjoined geese as they pass, wildly beating its wings and biting. Its mate, distressed by the tumult, abandons her offspring to become part of the general melee, also flapping and biting. The splashing, thrashing mass of mad geese somehow propels itself across the water until it is disappears from view under the pier. A few honks echo from beneath the pier, then all falls quiet.
Minutes later the female emerges, returning to gather the drifting goslings, after which she floats beside the pier calling to her mate. Soon, he exits the maze of piles and timbers beneath the pier to meet up with his family. Together they swim to the sand beach and leave the water. Eventually, the male from the family of older goslings returns to his mate and offspring. However, the male that was beset by the three geese fails to reappear, his mate standing at the water’s edge waiting, waiting.
Part 2
The older goslings now sprawl on the beach, resting. The two younger goslings begin feeding, moving slowly, steadily inward from the river. As they near the older gosling group, their parents run interference, inserting themselves between their goslings and the other family, giving warnings as they do so. As the other (flightless) parents respond with mild threats, the older goslings pick themselves up in unison and scramble a few feet away before dropping back onto the sand. The younger goslings eat some, then move further along, with their parents positioned between the two groups. Once more the older goslings rise, scoot away, and drop down, without their parents intervening. The foraging youngsters continue along the beach, causing the other goslings to get up and move one last time. For then the young goslings commence to eat their way back whence they had come. It possibly goes to show that in the land of the flightless, the flyer is king, even if outnumbered.
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Posted at: 04:37 PM | Add Comment
