Trilling red-wings & hilarity of geese: Ramble with the Lady

February 21, 2016

So a pair of geese floated on the nearly completely open north old clay pit this morning. I am pretty sure they are the pair that nests on the island on the south pit.

 

Half of the south pit is still covered with honeycombed ice. The ice came off the north pit about as fast as I ever remember ice disappearing. In about two days. The north is basically a shallow bowl so the ice disappears quicker there.

 

The south pit is much deeper, to 14 feet in spots and more shaded, especially along the south and east shorelines.

 

All that brings me to the hilarity of geese.

As Lady, our family's mutt, and I rambled up and around the trrail, formerly a side rail, above the south end of the south pit, nine geese came flying in.

 

They cupped up to land. The pair of geese on the north pit called to them. I assume saying, ``Come over here.''

 

But do you think they flew there? Hell, no. They all came to a skidding halt on the leftover ice on the south pit, looking like a pack of damm fools.

 

It made my morning.

 

Several rounds of geese flew over town from the lakes south of town as Lady and I rambled off this morning.

 

It felt like spring. I think the geese felt the urges of spring, too.

 

A sure sign of spring came for me as we crossed the side rail separating the town from the wilds of the town pond. I first heard one red-winged blackbird trilling along the west side of the north pit.

 

Then I heard quite a number of them trilling on most sides of the north pit.

 

I have always enjoyed red-wings and their trilling.Probably goes back to my childhood and the red-wings that used to sit on the cattails at our neighbor's little pond and trill.

 

Not much else moving around the town pond, other than the geese.

 

Coming out of the wilds around the town pond, we flushed three mourning doves sitting on the rail wires next to the grit area by the grain elevators on the edge of town.

 

By the neighbor's yard, Lady flushed two gray squirrels cavorting or contemplating cavorting beneath their white subcompact. At least that is what I fancy they were doing.

 

As we came up the front steps, Lady flushed a squirrel from its maurading below our feeders.

 

Home and feeling spring. A bit early.

 

 

 

 

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