Alternate Lifestyle Geese

Google image

Our 75 acre wheat and rye grass field is covered with Canada geese.  They mill about, honking and flapping at one another, then suddenly starting and beginning the long take-off run, just to soar a ways and come back down in the nearby pond or in another part of the field.  They squabble and posture, crooking their neck in an upside-down U and advancing menacing on any interloper, an interloper that could have been an acceptable companion only minutes before.

Earlier this spring, their backs created an almost unbroken mat of coverage, like a carpet of geese.  There were more than three thousand in the southern field.  George counted.  Something about grids and birds per grid, and x number of grids.  I forgave him that, though, because I count stairs.  But, the geese...

So, earlier this spring, there were lots.  And they did the usual mating/milling/gabbling/pairing off.  Then the couples flew off to smaller, more private venues in which to start their nests.  A hundred or so remained. Time passed.  All over the surrounding countryside, fluffy yellow-gray babies began to emerge with their parents, visibly larger each day.  Not so at our place.

No, these geese continued their paired-off, protective, mating ritual, but no babies resulted.  In fact, they didn't even leave the field often enough to have brooded a nest of eggs.  Now, as May gives way to June, they have fallen into a comfortable routine of eating, dozing in the shade, shitting, eating, walking up to the long driveway to observe silently as we pass, eating, shitting, then settling down as darkness descends.  Occasionally, they stir themselves to actually fly somewhere, returning noisily shortly thereafter.

Okay, I live near a community that brags about it's diversity.  The residents bleed tie-dyed swirled blood. The white residents find racism where even minorities don't.  Our community made national news when organizers and workers of the Olympic track and field finals were subjected to mandatory classes on how to communicate and deal with those from 'other' cultures and ways of life. All of the competitors were American athletes, for cryin' out loud.  Some young athletes of color were offended, stating that they were being singled out rather than accepted as Americans first.

Anyway, we boast (and brag about and shove in others' faces) our diverse population.  'Gays!  Lesbians! Bi's!  Blacks!  Hispanics!  Undeclared!  Undecided!  Oh, my!  Look at us!  We love everyone, everyone, unconditionally.  We are so sorry that we can't be black or brown or bi or poor or disenfranchised, just like you!  Wait, maybe we can!  We'll really, really try!'

I just realized that, for geese, my field is the latest cool spot to hang with other geese of an alternative lifestyle.  There is a reason there are no babies. These geese are gays and lesbians!  That's it!  I wonder why it took me so long to figure it out.  The large ones walk with a graceful swaying, and spend an inordinate amount of time preening. The smaller ones swagger and pick fights and chew straws.  The larger ones hang together in artful, balanced, swirling patterns pleasing to the eye.  The littler ones are arranged will-nilly, kicking up dust and slamming back pond-water shooters, laughing loudly.  I don't know why I never noticed it before. 

I am so excited to have this natural phenomenon happening right here on my farm.  I am going to be looking into grants or funding that might be available to subsidize the farm based on protecting minorities and this alternative lifestyle community.