Central Park reopened last night following the surprise October snow storm.
I felt confidence heading to the park last night that Brad and other ducks had survived. After all, Brad had survived much worse than a little storm dropping only 2.9 inches of snow.
But, when arriving to the 90th street entrance to the park, the sight of downed trees and branches seemingly everywhere began to dampen my optimism.
Wow, no wonder they had to close the park earlier!
In all the years of going to the park during and after snow storms, I had never seen such destruction and devastation.
Twisted tree branches and piles of leaves lay dead on the ground as if ravaged by some fierce tornado or other cataclysmic event.
It has been reported that the combination of rain and wet snow had weighted down the branches still covered in leaves. Apparently, Central Park lost an estimated 1,000 trees. (one quarter of total trees.) A figure that does not seem heavily inflated from what I saw last night.
The trees were obviously not prepared for a snow storm in October.
The question then ringing in my mind was, were Brad and the other birds prepared?
I of course had no way of knowing.
But, walking along the devastation on the Bridal Path and the North Park Drive, I began to have doubts.
The few runners out last night had to sidestep broken branches all along the drive.
Nevertheless, as I approached the entrance to Harlem Meer, the destruction didn't seem quite so intense. I only noted one tree down. Perhaps that was a good sign.
Descending the hill that leads to the Meer, I could immediately see some ducks lazily swimming on the water at the north, slightly west portion of the lake -- an area I hadn't seen them too much lately.
OK, this is good!
Continuing down, I was able to see the eastern part of the lake. And, there in silhouette against the lighted backdrop of the city and sitting on the dark water ......
Oh my God, it looks like GEESE in the middle of the lake!
Indeed, the long necks and more definitive, striking forms appeared too large to be ducks.
But, I could not be sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me as the birds were a good distance away and it was night.
I continued along the lake embankment and was pleased to see a new group of Northern Shovelers comically swimming in circles and diving under the water. "Wow, this is good, too!"
Meanwhile, my group of "regular" mallards cheerfully climbed the embankment seeking treats.
"Well, OK guys, but you know I am going to have to look for Brad in a bit."
Tossing some treats to the hungry and eager mallards, I continued to peer out on the lake, both at what appeared to be geese and also keeping a lookout for Brad.
Figuring the geese to be migratory, I did not expect them to move towards me, but ironically, they did! It was clear then that they actually were geese and apparently geese who knew me.
Wow.....hallelujah!
Within a minute or so, the geese hopped up on the embankment, one by one and cautiously approached me.
At first, I thought they might be the Turtle Pond family of five that had been seen twice at the Meer in the past couple of months.
But, their caution and hesitancy, plus the fact, none were lame and limping, quickly ruled that speculation out.
By the time all the geese arrived, I counted eight. All of them looking healthy, fit and plush, though varying in size somewhat. At least two appeared to be large ganders in charge of their gaggles and several others appeared to be youngsters, perhaps hatched this spring.
I guessed I was looking at two families of geese that have joined forces prior to winter migrations.
But, where were the geese from?
As I pondered that question, suddenly swimming quickly towards me from out of nowhere, was Brad!
Glory be, he made it!
Brad hopped up on the embankment and immediately waddled towards me to eat confidently from my hand -- something he had not done in more than a week.
"OK, I am here now, you guys step back!" Brad's body posture seemed to announce to all.
Everything about Brad last night was confidence and the old bravado that has not been witnessed much in recent days.
But, Brad wasn't the only one suddenly feeling his oats.
The mallards too, were back to their old antics and "bar room brawls" that I am only accustomed to seeing when geese are there.
"Come on you guys! Don't you have more important things to worry about now that winter will soon be here?"
But, the ducks were carrying on as if it was the perfect spring evening and there were only sunny, blissful days ahead.
Meanwhile, the proud ganders of the two goose families looked at the mallards like they were loons.
"Crazy mallards.....well, what can you expect from them? They have no dignity or class!."
After filling Brad's belly with what probably was his best meal in a couple of days, my attention again turned to the geese.
"Welcome guys.....where are your from and where have you been? You are a sight for sore eyes! So beautiful! Do any of you want to eat from my hand?"
I approached what appeared to be the two mama geese of the group and a couple of youngsters.
But, they curled their heads and necks to the side demurely as if to say, "We know you, but not that intimately." They made one think of shy, virginal girls.
The ganders of the group however weren't so shy and demure. They ate from my hands, but somewhat roughly.
"Hey, I am not offering my finger as a delicacy! Easy now!"
They were definitely not the Turtle Pond family!
Nevertheless, after a minute or two, one of the ganders finally "got" it and became much more of a gentleman.
At least I still had ten fingers.
Finally, when all the ducks and geese were peacefully grazing the seeds off the grass, I sat with my dogs for a while on a bench to just take in the beautiful scene before me.
Tina, my older Corgi mix, seemed particularly happy to see geese once again. She had a big, wide smile on her face. My Pomeranian, Chance, however couldn't care less. He has always been completely oblivious of animals in the park. (Its Tina who got me into waterfowl, as she has always been endlessly fascinated with ducks and geese.)
But, there in fact was another mystery.
The fact these 8 geese were not afraid at all of my dogs!
It then dawned on me who they really were.
They had to be part of what used to be the "resident" geese of Harlem Meer. The geese I used to see last spring and fall. Perhaps geese I had even seen off and on over the past couple of years.
They had finally returned to Harlem Meer!
But, why so late now and why only 8 of what used to be close to 100 geese?
Those were questions, I of course had no answers to -- or simply didn't want to think about at a time of otherwise joy and celebration.
It was just so good to see the 8 geese finally back!
All the birds finally settled down and peaceful, I got up to leave with my dogs.
The geese did not flinch. It was easy to see then, they were not only familiar with me, but also my two unthreatening dogs. They were definitely returnees to Harlem Meer.
"I hope you guys stay a while," I murmured while leaving. "Brad and the nervous, high strung mallards need you here!"
And with that, a few of my regular ducks, along with Brad, began to follow my dogs and me..
"No, I am NOT taking you wacko ducks home with me!"
But, the geese stayed, looking as always, proud and dignified.
Walking home through the maze of twisted and broken wreckage along the paths, it occurred to me that the one place in the park that appeared almost totally untouched and unscathed by the storm was Harlem Meer.
Not only were all the existing birds fine and healthy, but new shovelers and geese had flown in!
Was this the one place in the city and the park that God and nature sought to protect?
Did the geese and shovelers flee the places they were before or during the storm to find this one safe spot?
Or, did they actually bring the safety and protection with them?
I didn't know actual answers to anything.
But, I was strangely fulfilled with a new found joy and sense of celebration.
So much so, that I found myself wildly dancing along the North Park Drive to the music and words of Bruce Springsteen's, "You're My Lucky Day" coming through the headphones, along with afterwards,"Open Road."
Fortunately, there were no runners or cyclists on the drive to wonder about a crazy woman dancing along with two smallish dogs amongst the ruins.
But, in the sober reflection of a new day, I can almost imagine officials of Central Park Conservancy waking up, seeing the 8 geese on the Meer and saying, "Oh cripes....look what the storm blew in! Geese! Time to call Goosebusters again!"
But, perhaps with hundreds of thousands of dollars of damaged and downed trees to clean up after, hopefully CP Conservancy priorities will be elsewhere.
It strikes just a wee bit ironic that only two weeks ago, I joked about the "destruction of trees" (as opposed to geese), only to see what was said in jest actually come to fruition.
Apparently a dozen people lost their lives as result of the weekend storm and falling trees.
But, I am just hoping that these 8 returned geese to Harlem Meer will be left in the same peace that they apparently brought with them.
Let there again be reason to dance amongst the ruins. -- PCA
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