Rag-Tag, Vagabonds

Buster and his rag-tag, vagabonds were late showing up to the table last night.

 

Perhaps the gaggle of seven geese were busy watching Lasker rink hockey practice at the  west side of Harlem Meer -- or pond hopping. 

 

When the geese did finally show, Brad and the troupe of mallards had already polished off most of the treats for the evening.

But, there were still some seeds and cracked corn on the ground.

 

Buster was the first goose to hop the embankment. But apparently either reading my body language and empty hands or quickly assessing the situation, he immediately started to nibble the seeds off the grass.  The rest of his clan followed suit.  

 

Its amazing the intuitive sense of the geese and how quickly they figure things out.

 

Sitting on a neaby park bench with my dogs and observing the relatively peaceful scene before me, I made some mental notes.

 

There is no question that Buster and his troupe are part of what used to be, the "resident geese of Harlem Meer" whose former numbers were once close to 100. 

 

This is apparently what is left of them. -- Seven geese.

 

Seven geese, probably all of whom have lost mates, siblings or even offspring to the mindless and brutal goose carnage that has become systematic in NYC.

 

Having spent several years closely observing highly organized goose families, it is quite apparent that this gaggle of geese are not related and have probably come together as quick and needy response to the carnage that has broken up families and mate pairings for years now.

 

For one matter, when eating, this group of seven geese usually assigns no goose as "sentry" to the gaggle.  Rather, its seemingly every goose for him or herself.  Grab what you can and follow the directives of Buster, the lead gander in command.

 

For his part, Buster nudges the others off his immediate space and claim, but not in violent manner as much as authoritarian.  Yes, he calls the shots, probably determines when and where they go and for how long.  The other geese obviously respect and follow his directives.  But, there doesn't appear to be real organization among the group and assignment of duties and placement.

 

Its interesting that when returning to Harlem Meer a few weeks ago, Buster and his troupe arrived with what appeared to be several gaggles of migratory geese.

 

The migratory geese were very shy and wary of humans.  I suspect it might have been Buster who, with his group, led the migratory geese to Harlem Meer as normally migratory geese settle in the Reservoir when traveling or taking rest stops in Central Park.

 

For the following week or two, all the geese stayed at the Meer, though Buster and his troupe were always separate from the migratory birds.

 

Then, about ten days ago, the park installed a Christmas tree on the water and that apparently freaked out all the geese into leaving.  (Even Buster, after all, would not have been accustomed to trees being planted in the middle of a lake.)

 

But, returning to the Meer again, it is only Buster and his rag-tag vagabonds without the migratory geese who have apparently moved on. (I only hope the migratory geese don't run into a hail of bullets on their journey to wherever they are going.)

 

It would be easy, when looking at Buster and the six other geese, to assess him as being particularly "aggressive."   Buster is cocky, confident and somewhat brazen. He stands tall, constantly admonishes the others and has no problem apparently in walking up to people he knows and beseeching a treat.

 

But, he's actually a very smart and apparently very aware and knowledgeable gander.  That is precisely why the others have latched on to him (despite the constant admonishments) -- as matter of survival.

 

I have little doubt that Buster and his gaggle of convenience will make it through the winter.

 

While it might appear to be a situation of "every goose for him or herself" it is actually a case of "all for one and one for all" with Buster (due to his size and smarts) obviously in total command.

 

The geese are truly infinitely fascinating animals.

 

Leaving the Meer last night, I looked back to note Buster and clan, as well as Brad and the mallards following me in the water as means of their traditional farewell greeting.

 

"Goodnight geesies!  Goodnight duckies!.  You beautiful guys take care now!"  I murmured, waving a hand to them.

 

But, I don't know whether Buster and his troupe will actually hang around a while.

 

The geese don't need me to advise them what to do.

 

They already have their leader and so far, Buster has led them very well -- and safely.  -- PCA

 

 

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