It takes a town pond: Ramble with the Lady
At least five families of goslings are hatched out around the town pond, but there will be more coming if the extra adults swimming and standing guard mean anything.
In the photo at least four other adults were swimming protection around two familes on the north old clay pit.
Other families were scattered around both the north and south pits.
Usually we get seven nesting pairs if both pits are counted. There might be more this year.
Quite obviously, just like it takes a village to raise kids, it takes a town pond of geese to properly raise the goslings.
By it takes a village, I do not necessarily mean the book of the same name by Hillary Rodham Clinton, but the African proverb that her title is based on.
Here is the basic part of a much longer explanation from afriprov.org:
This Igbo and Yoruba (Nigeria) proverb exists in different forms in many African languages. The basic meaning is that child upbringing is a communal effort.
Apparently that applies to the communal Canada geese, too.
Naturally, at least naturally for me, this discussion of It Takes a Village takes me to the Village People doing ``YMCA.'
Good Lord, I forgot just how over the top that video was. But it has 57 million plus hits on YouTube.
The weather has been over the top for spring, which is why everything is blooming, sprouting or spawning; or seems to be.
Yet another shower passed as I awoke around 4:30 this morning. But it cleared out as Lady, our family's mutt, set off.
The usual spring clutter of chirps and cooing washed over us on all side. Only saw one rabbit and one gray squirrel, which seems odd. But maybe my head was buried inward.
I made a pass by two secondary spots for morels, but again came up empty. Not sure what is going on with those spots. I did not see any evidence of some other forager beating me to them and cutting morels.
Nature sometimes holds its mysteries close.
Even though, we set off early, the sun was completely up by the time we came out of the wilds around the town pond and back to the edge of town.
The sun was blazing (beating down?) already as we passed the stark manmade lines of the grain elevators. (Hello, Charles Demuth.)
Back near home, Lady craned her neck to watch a squirrel ran up our neighbor's maple. I couldn't find it. The maple leaves exploded in size with the warmth and rain this week.
Much of spring life did that this week.