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I am not one for sappy romance novels.
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The closest I ever came was reading, The Thorn Birds and that probably attracted because it had "birds" in the title.
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I have however, been thinking much about romance lately.
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That's because of observing it in Central Park over the course of three years.
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First, there is the story that is continued from yesterday:
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Cago and Toluse -- Strangers on the Shore
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Cago is of course the goose who cannot as yet fly. Tolouse is the goose who (at least for the moment), cannot walk.
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Ah, such a pair!
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I actually don't know for certain the sexes of these two geese who, just a few days ago met on a little sandy, sunset doused, beach at Harlem Meer. But perhaps it doesn't really matter.
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"She" (Toluse) hobbled painfully out of the water, flapping wings to try and keep herself from falling over. He (Cago) stood at the edge of the sand as valiant stranger on the shore.
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She was the damsel in distress. He, the handsome prince waiting patiently to save and take her in.
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Surely, it doesn't get more romantic than that!
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Ah, but it does!
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Cago later guided his lost and crippled little waif to the safe sanctuary of a little patch of grass near the Dana Discovery Center. Buffered on one side by the lake and the other by small wire fencing, the grassy patch of land, (shaded by a leafy oak tree, no less) is a favorite retreat of most of the Harlem Meer waterfowl -- including four bossy and cantankerous domestic ducks.
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"Welcome to my abode!" said the handsome prince to his demure, but ailing little lady on one leg. "It may not be fancy, but you can rest and you can heal here. I will remain by your side to protect you and my (duck) friends will entertain you."
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"You are so kind and so generous," murmured Toluse, softly lowering her head. "You are forever in my graces and gratitude."
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And indeed, Miss Toluse is already beginning to heal! Mustering up all the bravery within her, Toluse pulled herself up from sitting position last night to follow her handsome prince a few steps. No, the picture wasn't pretty as she clumsily hobbled and used her wings to propel her forward. But, Toluse did attempt to put a little weight on her damaged leg despite the pain.
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Later, Toluse would not even mind the unkind and unwelcoming pecks from a seemingly jealous mama mallard and her two, half grown, entitled brats or the loud, boisterous honks and quacks from the four domestic ducks who seem to think they own all of Central Park -- and all the birds in it.
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After all, Cago didn't specify what he meant when saying, "entertainment."
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But, oh the power of love to heal!
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Surely, the only possible dampers to this super sappy love story would be if Cago and Toluse are both boys or both girls or Cago turns out to be the girl and Toluse the boy.
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But, hey, these days who is to judge? Just call it a modern or unconventional super sappy love story.
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But, I still think Cago the prince and Toluse the damsel in distress.
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What else can so perfectly fit that romantic meeting on the sunset beach or the power of love to heal?
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Lucy and Ricky -- "Whoops! I Lost My Wife!"
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The story of Lucy and Ricky, a mated pair of Canada geese from the Jackie Onassis Reservoir is not quite so romantic and poetic as that of Cago and Toluse.
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They arrived with some other geese to the Reservoir for the safety of the molt (flightless period) in the early part of June.
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There, they stayed somewhat uneventfully for the next six weeks of the molting period.
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But, it seems that (like Cago at Harlem Meer) Lucy too, is a "late molter."
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Surprisingly, Lucy was still flying in the early part of July -- when USDA was conducting goose roundups and slaughters around the city. I even snapped a picture of Lucy flying to me one early July morning while all the other geese -- including her mate -- were confined to the water.
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But, unlike all the other geese who have since regained flight, Lucy is now going through the molt.
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Most of the 17 geese who stayed at the Reservoir through June and most of July began to leave as early as two weeks ago -- as soon as regaining their flight feathers.
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However, they did not leave all at once, but rather in small groups or pairs.
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The problem is that last week, Ricky left with the last flock!
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Imagine the shock when arriving to the Reservoir and seeing poor, flightless Lucy in the middle of the water deserted and all alone!
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Oh no!!! Not again! Another loner? How could Ricky just up and leave her like that? He just goes with the crowd and doesn't care about his lady? What kind of Canada goose is THAT?
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Poor Lucy was so lost, dejected and motionless on the water, she did not even bother to come to me for treat.
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Wow. So much for the loyalty and devotion of ganders to their mates! Ricky must have flown off with some young chick waddling her lily white butt at him!
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All my romantic notions of Canada geese suddenly and literally in the tank upon the image of this poor, abandoned goose "wife." Poor Lucy! What would become of her?
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But, here is what really happened:
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Apparently, not realizing his mate molted late and was not able to fly with the last gaggle, Ricky simply took off with them assuming Lucy was by their side or following.
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But, somewhere above a cloud, Ricky must have looked around and suddenly realized his lady wasn't with them!
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Whoops!
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"Oh, my GAWD! Sorry, guys! I seemed to have lost my wife. It was nice molting with you, but I gotta get back! Honk!"
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The next day all was well again -- both Ricky and Lucy happily together and acting like nothing had ever happened (as is true today).
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But, they can't fool me despite the pretenses.
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One can only imagine the barrage of angry honks poor Ricky was pelted with when finally returning back to the fold and his deserted lady at 3 or 4 AM.
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"Where the HELL did you go and how could you NOT realize I was not ready to fly yet? Did you not even bother to LOOK?"
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"Sorry, my dear. I thought......."
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"Never mind what you THOUGHT! The trouble is, you DIDN'T think at all!"
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"You're right, Lucy. You're right. You're right......."
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All right, not the stuff of great romantic novels.
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But, it is the stuff of mated pairs, whether geese or humans who have been together a long time.
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Still, no doubt that Ricky (despite some lack of awareness and "sensitivity") loves his Lucy and is purely devoted to her. No matter how long it takes for Lucy to regain her flight feathers, he is with her all the way.
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Mama and Papa -- The Greatest Love of All
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It would be impossible to sum up in a few short paragraphs, the extraordinary romance of Mama and Papa, much of which is detailed throughout this blog.
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Suffice it to say this special pair served as basis for my value and appreciation of Canada geese.
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According to another wildlife observer, Mama and Papa had been returning to Turtle Pond in Central Park each spring for many years to nest. Papa was easily recognizable due to a pronounced limp on his left leg. Mama, by her diminutive size and scruffy wing feathers.
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But, each year Mama's eggs failed to hatch -- most likely due to egg oiling which is conducted in Central Park to limit goose population growth.
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In 2010 Mama hid her nest high in the rocks under Belvedere Castle and for the first time, all six eggs finally hatched. How fitting that Mama's eggs hatched on Mother's Day, the first Sunday in May!
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This is the time I discovered the devoted couple, proudly showing off, protecting and sharing their six adorable balls of yellow fluff with the thousands of people and children visiting Turtle Pond each spring and summer.
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2010 was a turbulent and terrible year for most resident geese living in New York City parks. Following the "Miracle on the Hudson" event in 2009, resident Canada geese of NYC were targeted for USDA captures and gassings. More than 1,600 geese killed throughout the city, including 352 from Prospect Park in Brooklyn.
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But, the geese in Central Park were thankfully off limits for USDA culls.
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While other people mourned the losses of their beloved geese and goslings (especially in Prospect Park), we living near Central Park were blessed to observe and celebrate new goose life.
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Mama, Papa and their six growing babies were the delight of thousands -- especially human parents with their own children. Parents snapped photos while children smiled, laughed and tossed treats to the highly socialized goose family. As they grew, the goslings gently took treats from children's hands while Mama and Papa guardedly watched.
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Raising a clutch of goslings in a highly trafficked park is hard work for goose parents. There is much to teach the little ones in short time and many dangers to protect from, most notably off leash dogs, snapping turtles, red tailed hawks, discarded fishing lines or those humans with ill intent.
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I am not sure how geese discern the good people from the few bad, but they do. They seem to have an inner and special radar that springs into action any time danger is around.
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After long days of posing for photos and entertaining children, at night, the family would retreat to sleep on a rock at Turtle Pond. But, Papa rarely slept at all. Rather, the protective gander kept constant vigil a few feet away from his sleeping mate and kids. The only times Papa got any sleep at all were when Mama temporarily switched places with him to afford Papa a quick goose nap.
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By mid August, both parents and goslings had developed flight feathers and were ready to take to the air.
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Only one gosling didn't.
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From the time he was only weeks old, it was obvious the gosling I had named, "Binky" would never fly because he had a condition known as "Angel Wing" which renders affected birds incapable of ever flying.
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What were Mama and Papa to do?
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They had responsibility to teach their other five goslings how to fly as well as to ultimately return to wherever Mama and Papa spend winters.
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Though only three months old, Binky had to be taught and learn how to survive without his family. -- Certainly, a daunting task for any infant animal, especially of a species so dependent upon family and parents.
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Although usually leaving a molting or nesting location immediately upon gaining flight feathers and not retuning until the following spring, Mama and Papa would not simply and suddenly desert their one flightless son.
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Rather, they elected to take short flight trips with their other five goslings though the days and return every night back to Turtle Pond and Binky.
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But, eventually Binky had to learn to spend even the nights alone.
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The first night he was alone at Turtle Pond was heartbreaking as the "orpaned" gosling constantly swam around the water searching and calling out for this parents and siblings.
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"H---O---N---K......H-------O----N----K.........H.....O....N.......K"
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The cries were eerie, haunting and ceaseless -- like none I had ever heard before from geese.
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But, the following day, the family returned and were once again reunited.
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This is in fact, how Mama and Papa resolved the conflict of teaching their healthy young the necessities of flight and migration, while at the same time, insuring that their one flightless son was taught the basics of surviving alone.
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Short trips away from Binky became longer and longer until such time, Mama and Papa were assured the young gosling had gained enough confidence and independence to survive alone and form necessary alliances with the mallards at Turtle Pond.
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Eventually, by early September, the family did not come back at all to Turtle Pond.
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But, it was OK, because by then, Binky was surviving as a "duck" and had learned to go it alone. Though difficult at times, Mama and Papa had taught him well the necessities of life as a goose without wings.
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Matters would remain that way until December when the small pond began to freeze over and the mallards left.
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Then truly "alone" on a frozen pond, it became necessary for Binky to be rescued as he had no way of flying out and finding open water. But, being so socialized and human friendly, Binky was an easy rescue for Central Park Conservancy who then sent Binky to a wealthy farm estate in upstate New York to live out the rest of his days in safety.
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The following spring, Mama, Papa and their five yearlings returned to Turtle Pond.
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But, it was time for Papa to "kick the kids out" in order to spend alone time with Mama and begin the whole process again.
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Papa sectioned off one part of the pond for the kids and another part for his wife and himself.
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Any yearling who dared cross the invisible "line" in the water was quickly admonished by Papa and unceremoniously sent packing. Sometimes Papa would even grab the errant "teenager" and hold him/her down in the water as if trying to drown.
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Goose discipline can at times be a bit harsh -- especially during nesting time.
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Sadly, Mama's eggs did not hatch in 2011 or 2012 when apparently frustrated by Turtle Pond, Mama and Papa attempted to instead nest at the nearby Boat Lake in Central Park.
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But, still flocking with their then young adult kids from 2010, Mama and Papa took their losses in stride and simply continued on with their parenting and flock leadership duties.
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Getting very on in years however, Mama was showing the signs of wear and tear on her body. Missing webbing on her right foot slowed her down in the water and on land. When going through the molt in 2012, Mama especially appeared bedraggled and worn down. So much so, that neither my friend and fellow goose lover, Liliana nor I thought Mama would ever fly again.
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There were times too, during 2012, that Mama would seek some time for herself and temporarily wander away from Papa and the rest of the flock.
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Liliana reported several times, seeing Mama wander down a narrow pedestrian path that winds around the Rambles and adjoins the lake.
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But, Mama always rejoined her husband and family and surprisingly in the first week of August of last year, Mama was able to fly out with the rest of the family from the Boat Lake.
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A few nights later, I saw Mama, Papa and the rest of the clan at Harlem Meer.
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But, it was apparently merely a rest stop for them on their journey to wherever they go the rest of the year as I would not see them again.
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Little did I know then, it was the last time I would ever see Mama.
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This spring, Papa and his family returned to the Boat Lake -- but they were without Mama.
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Somewhere between August of last year and May of this year, Mama was lost. The only thing we know is that death did not come to Mama in Central Park.
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Papa did not take on a new mate, but he still maintained leadership of his flock. This despite being on in years himself and like Mama the previous year, somewhat battered looking.
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Though sad without Mama, all seemed reasonably well with Papa and the 12 other geese until just a few weeks ago.
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That is when Liliana discovered Papa one day wandering, weak and disoriented down the same narrow and winding path that Mama had several times the year before.
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Liliana picked Papa up and discovered to her horror, a badly infected dog bite wound under his wing, covered in maggots.
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Asking a passerby to call Central Park Conservancy on a cell phone, a worker was there in minutes to place Papa in a carrier and rush him to the Wild Bird Fund -- a bird treatment center in Manhattan.
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But, Papa died within minutes of arriving to the hospital.
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Of course, both Liliana and I questioned that we were unable to detect anything wrong with Papa who clearly was very adept at hiding his pain and suffering.
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But, because the wound was under his wing, it was impossible to detect upon casual observance. And Papa never showed any changes in his behavior or sociability with people or other geese. He was leader and teacher of his flock right up to the end.
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It is said that many times in long married and loving couples, when one partner dies, the other usually follows within a year.
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Papa never showed any changes in behavior until the day he eerily wandered down the same winding path that Mama had the previous year.
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One cannot help but wonder if he was looking for her?
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A love story for sure. But, nothing sappy about it.
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Perhaps in truth, one of the greatest love stories of all.
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Mama and Papa, hopefully together again walking little romantic paths and flying eternal skies. -- PCA
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