Me and the Canada Geese
I was getting ready to take a shower this morning when I looked out my window.
Then I looked again.
Two Canada Geese were wandering around the backyard.
I’m not sure how rare it is for Canada Geese to wander into someone’s yard, but I know that it’s never happened before in MY yard.
I grabbed my camera and coat and rushed outside.
I was afraid to get too close and spook them, so I started taking pics right away. I slowly moved a bit closer.
I got some decent shots.
I also noticed for the first time that my fingers were sticking to the metal camera. It was a tad nippy out.
It was at this point that I decided — despite how robust they looked — that these geese appeared to be hungry. (This also happens to me with various other kinds of animals… and skinny women.)
So, I foraged around the kitchen and found stale trail mix and nacho chip dealies. I went back outside and tossed them into the yard.
The geese didn’t even notice.
“Sons of bitches!”
I said that, not the geese.
I went back into the house to see what I could find.
I discovered some hamburger buns and brought one outside.
I decided that the other food I had thrown was too close to the house. So, I broke off pieces of hamburger bun and tossed them out farther and farther from the original pile of food.
I figured a bread crumb trail worked for Hansel and Gretel, so…
Or did they get eaten by a witch?
Regardless, that was my plan.
So, I had chucked out a dozen or more pieces of bun when suddenly a couple dozen seagulls flew in from every direction. They were joined by a few crows. It felt very Tipi Hedren-esque.
These newcomers were gobbling up the chunks of bun. I looked down the yard and the Canada Geese hadn’t even noticed!! They waddled around, picking at the ground and grooming themselves. (Much like, I suspect, Paris Hilton would do if she was a bird.)
I gave up and went back into the house.
But, I learned a valuable lesson today, my friends…
Despite being truly majestic creatures, when not flying in a “V,” these feathered fucks don’t have a clue what they are doing.
Thus endeth “Profiles in Nature, with Peter DeWolf.”