The Season of the Witch

(Photo:  One of six, very wary geese last night at Harlem Meer)

 

Even before hitting the small pier at Turtle Pond yesterday morning, I knew I would not see Mama and Papa goose.

 

A very bad feeling suddenly overwhelmed.  I was not surprised when looking at the empty rocks, empty pond and empty lawns.  On the contrary, I halfway expected it.

 

Nevertheless, I initially tried to dismiss and even laugh off the bad feelings as my once-again "paranoia."

 

The geese are playing hide and seek again!  Maybe they are rock climbing at Belvedere Castle!  Or, maybe they are sight-seeing at the lake or the Reservoir.  Don't panic!

 

But, more than an hour later, after searching the rocks, the lake, all the surrounding lawns and even the Reservoir with no sign of the familiar two geese at Turtle Pond, I was forced to give up the search and return home with my two dogs, Tina and Chance.

 

Emotionally, I was a mess.  Part of me felt numb.  But, the other part was becoming unglued.  I fought back tears while walking along crowded, uptown,  Manhattan streets.

 

Still, there was that part that tried to maintain hope and balance:

 

Go back later.   You usually see them at dusk anyway.  Maybe they take some kind of romantic day trips in the mornings.

 

I didn't believe that of course.  But, it was worth trying to convince myself.  At least for the moment.

 

Once home, I called the Central Park Conservancy (again) to ask the simple question of whether "Goosebusters" (i.e. harassment) was being used against the geese at Central Park?

 

The Conservancy advised me to call the Park Rangers (which of course have nothing to do with harassment).

 

But, I called the rangers anyway.

 

"Border Collies have been used in the past to chase the geese, but I have not seen them this spring," the pleasant-sounding ranger told me over the phone. She then added,  "Some people don't like the harassment. Its possible the person who reported it to you was remembering it from the past."

 

"Please add my name to those who don't like the harassment!" I said to the ranger.  "But, getting back to the point, the photographer told me he had seen harassment as late as a couple of weeks ago."

 

"I just know I haven't seen it," the ranger reiterated, "though I don't get here at 6 AM like the photographer."

 

"What would make these two geese suddenly leave Turtle Pond?" I asked.  "Its not migration season.  Normally, geese don't move very far this time of year.  These two geese usually stay at the pond until mid July."

 

"Sometimes people allow their dogs in the water," the ranger answered.  "A dog might have scared the geese off."

 

"These geese successfully raised six goslings at Turtle Pond last year!  They are well used to people's dogs and they know the terrain."

 

"Let me check with my contacts at the Conservancy and ask if harassment has been used recently.   I will call you back as soon as I find out."

 

"I would greatly appreciate that."

 

And with that, the call ended.

 

But, I never heard back from the ranger yesterday.

 

Either she was unsuccessful as I in getting definitive answers from the Conservancy.  Or, she did get the information and simply did not want to tell me.  I had, after all, made my position very clear on the harassment.  "ADD my name to those who don't like it."

 

And so I was back to square one.  No answers from anyone in authority on whether harassment was being used on the Central Park geese or not.  And no real explanations for the vanishing geese throughout the entire north end of the park -- including now, Mama and Papa geese, my very favorites and most well known.

 

Still, I elected not to write in this journal yesterday because there was so much I still did not know or have actual evidence or admittance to.

 

There was only one thing to do last night.

 

Return to Turtle Pond.

 

But, it was the same story as earlier in the day.

 

No geese and just a few ducks, including the mama mallard and her six still-surviving ducklings.

 

Having looked everywhere else for Mama and Papa goose without success, I decided to return to Harlem Meer.

 

The sun had just set when arriving at the Meer.  Though the lake appeared mostly empty of waterfowl, I could make out a few geese in the middle of the lake and a few more mallards than observed two nights ago.

 

Jillian and her four ducklings were swimming in the water, as were Brad and Angelina and most of the other mallards.

 

They appeared more normal and less stressed than Wednesday night.

 

The geese however, remained very wary and unmoving in the water.

 

Once it got dark, I moved to one of the embankments and tossed some seeds to a few of the mallards, as well as Brad and Angelina.

 

Only when doing this for about ten minutes, did the geese begin to move very cautiously in my direction.  When climbing on the embankment, the gander I presume to be "Bozo," gave a short, greeting honk to me, though his body language was cautious and tentative.

 

I counted a total of six geese, though one of them (probably the ever wary, Bonnie) did not approach and remained in the middle of the lake.

 

Her mate, Bozo meanwhile, was far more subdued than normal.  No antics, no hissing at my dogs and no bullying of the four other geese he came with. 

 

Nevertheless, Bozo  did seem to take on a leadership and "sentry" role.  -- Watching out while the others ate.  I am guessing the other four geese were much younger and perhaps might even be the goslings from Turtle Pond -- though if that was true, they were much more nervous and skittish than I am used to seeing them.

 

I did not see at all, Mama and Papa goose from Turtle Pond.

 

Finally, Bozo gave a honk signaling to the younger geese. And with Bozo in the lead, they all left the embankment and returned to the center of the lake.

 

I then gathered up my two dogs and we started to make our way home, saying a goodnight to the then chatty mallards who, for all intensive purposes, appeared pretty close to normal. 

 

A few were even chasing each other once again.

 

By the time we arrived home, both my dogs and I were knocked out having put in more than 4 miles in the park yesterday.

 

But, still I had no answers to all the bizarre happenings of this week.

 

Meanwhile, the goose family at Prospect Park has seemingly vanished this week, along Mama and Papa goose from Turtle Pond.  Though people have been looking for them, no one has been able to find the parent geese and their three surviving goslings.

 

Or, maybe it is only one surviving gosling now.

 

One Prospect Park observer just photographed yesterday, two parent geese and one gosling at the Prospect Park lake.

 

6,5,4,3,2, 1.

 

It is the season of the witch.  -- PCA

 

 

                                                         *********

 

Do Ducks (Or Geese) Ever Get Depressed?

As day is to night or summer is to winter or health is to illness, that was the marked difference last night at Harlem Meer compared to the liveliness and "avian celebration" of the Memorial Day weekend.

 

Arriving at the Meer shortly after the sun had set last night, there was an eeriness and almost deathly quiet around the lake.

 

Only two mallards sat motionless on the south bank of the watercourse (the place where most of the mallards and geese, when there, usually gather at night). 

 

The male and female mallards barely looked up as I passed with my dogs.  They were not interested in any treats, nor particularly engaged in anything going on around them.

 

Not that there was anything happening to get excited or engaged about.

 

I sat with my dogs for a while on a nearby park bench trying to make out if I could see any ducks or geese on the lake.  But, I couldn't.

 

The lake appeared like a sullen, dark pool of motionless ink with little signs of life upon it.

 

Looking again at the seemingly spiritless mallards in front of me, I wondered to myself if mallards ever get depressed?   If so, I seemed to be looking at it.

 

Feeling a sense of deflation myself, I decided to walk around the entire lake to see if I could find Bozo and Bonnie (or any geese, for that matter), the mama mallard, "Jillian" (and her four tiny ducklings) or even Brad and Angelina, the power duck couple of Harlem Meer.

 

But, everywhere that my dogs and I walked it was the same thing.

 

Empty water edges and eerie silence on the water.

 

Peering out into the darkness, I could barely make out what appeared to be perhaps a few mallards and even two geese seemingly hiding in the middle of the lake.

 

The birds were like statues on the water, barely moving at all.   I wasn't in fact sure I was seeing geese or ducks, but rather, imagining some sort of mirage.

 

Having walked around almost the entire Meer, I finally found Brad and Angelina, the two flightless ducks, quietly huddled on some grass at the east side of the lake. -- A hidden location I have very rarely seen them in the past.

 

They too, seemed unusually quiet and guarded.  As I approached the two ducks to toss some treats, they carefully retreated as if not knowing or fully trusting me.

 

I have rarely seen these two, usually extremely lively and spirited ducks behave in such skittish, cautious fashion.  -- Especially with me who Brad and Angelina know for almost two years.

 

Something was very, very "off" and strange last night at the Meer. 

 

I suddenly felt I was in the Twilight Zone.

 

Not wanting to stress them any further, I walked away from BrAdgelina, but found myself wondering the same thought when seeing the first two mallards:  Do ducks ever get depressed?   Once again, I felt I had just looked at it.

 

Still hoping to see some sign of the mama mallard and her ducklings, I peered out to the lake once again.

 

It seemed I could clearly make out this time, what appeared to be two goose silhouettes in the distance.   They were in the same location in the middle of the lake, where Bozo and Bonnie usually are.

 

"Bozo!"  "Is that you, Bozo?"

 

But, if the two geese were in fact, Bozo and Bonnie and if he saw or heard me, Bozo made no motions to either come and stalk my dogs or see me.

 

Instead, he remained very close to his mate, neither goose moving at all on the water.

 

And so, like the few ducks or geese I saw, I too felt a sense of dispiritedness and deflation.

 

What could have happened between Monday night and last night (Wednesday) to cause such a seemingly dramatic and foreboding change?

 

Monday night there were ten lively geese at the lake, along with almost 25 mallards (including the mama and her four ducklings). Most of the birds had cheerfully congregated at the south lake bank and were engaged in all kinds of posturing and oneupsman-ship kind of games.  As described the next day, it was like being at some lively and grand, "avian party."

 

But, obviously the party soon ended.

 

Last night, it was more like some kind of funeral atmosphere than any "party."

 

I never in fact, found the mama mallard and ducklings who presumably must have been hiding in some marshes or high weeds.

 

And if I saw the footloose and fancy free, Bozo at all, he remained steadfastly by his mate on the water like he was guarding the crown jewels -- or afraid that some kind of huge, "Cujo" dog was about to attack them.

 

 I would like to think or say to myself that the small gaggle of geese who flew in over the weekend to annoy Bozo or celebrate the holiday weekend, were "stopovers." -- i.e. Geese on their way to someplace else that stop briefly at a location to rest or graze.

 

But, this is not the migratory season and I am quite sure that the geese at the Meer over the weekend were Central Park "regulars" who are familiar with both the location and the heavy human traffic at the Meer during the warm weather.

 

In fact, I even considered that five of the geese might have been the grown goslings from Turtle Pond.  Two of them confidently ate from my hand on Monday night.

 

Judging however, from the very unusual and guarded, evasive behavior observed last night  from the few ducks I saw, I could only equate it to some type of "trauma." 

 

Like that associated with goose harassment programs.

 

Apparently, ten geese and a couple of dozen mallards on a large lake were "too many." 

 

And, apparently too, the idea is to chase whatever geese are at Central Park to some more remote location where they will be rounded up and gassed in a few weeks by the USDA.

 

As for the few ducks and geese who steadfastly remained on the lake either due to inability to fly (Brad and Angelina) or simple stubbornness and resiliency, (Bozo and Bonnie) it was more than apparent that they were trying to be invisible.

 

Do mallards (or geese) ever get depressed?

 

Indeed they do. 

 

Especially when terrorized or made to feel unwelcomed.  -- PCA

 

 

                                                     ***********

 

 

Full Disclosure

The photo posted here today is not taken by myself.

 

It is from a June 17th, 2009,  USDA goose roundup and gassing that occurred on Randall's Island.

 

The then flightless and helpless geese (and goslings) were corralled, their feet were bound with plastic ties and they were then stuffed into crates and trucks and later gassed, presumably at Kennedy Airport.

 

The photo is one in a disturbing series taken by Robert Guadagna and posted on the "For the Love of Geese in Prospect Park" FB page by David Karopkin:

 

For the love of the geese in Prospect Park (92)

 

There is also a  short video posted on the site from this horrific day from the same photographer.   I have additionally posted the photos and video to the more general goose Facebook page, "Call of the Canada Geese":

 

Call of the Canada Geese page

 

It is critically important that people take the time to view these photos and video so that we have an idea of what really occurred in Prospect Park last year, as well as dozens of other locations around New York City for the last ten years.

 

Because these hideous roundups usually take place either under cover of darkness or very early in the morning (without media scrutiny), we rarely have photos or videos to show what is occurring in many of our public parks behind the public's back. -- Particularly during the months of June or early July, the time when the geese typically molt and are unable to fly and escape.

 

It is extremely important to note that these photos and video were shot during the roundups and NOT the actual goose gassings.

 

If the geese and goslings look terrified and cramped after being shoved 4 to 5 to a crate, it is unimaginable to consider what might have been happening during actual gassings where the geese can take up to an hour to die.

 

But, obviously the USDA and Kennedy Airport are not going to share such images with the public nor invite outsiders or media to shoot goose gassing photos and videos. 

 

These actions are covert and clandestine. Indeed, we don't even know the "secret location" at Kennedy Airport the geese are gassed.

 

"Those who have nothing to hide, hide nothing."

 

The above quote is from Dr. Phil McGraw. 

 

It refers to the human tendency to hide and lie about matters that are otherwise regarded as immoral, unethical or shameful.

Deliberate cruelty to or massacre of animals is normally considered unethical, shameful and even illegal in our society.

 

But, apparently not when such actions have government sanction and are even carried out by government.

 

However, the fact that the numerous government agencies involved in goose roundups and slaughters take such care to "hide" and  even lie about these actions indicates that even the officials have to realize there is something very insidious and shameful about these activities.

 

(When using the loaded term, "lie,"  I am referring to those attempts by governmental agencies, park officials and politicians to typically employ euphemisms such as "goose removals" and "euthanasia" to sugarcoat and cover up the brutal realities of goose roundups, inhumane transport and gassings to the public.  While it may be true that the geese are "removed" there is no way one could truthfully refer to CO2 gassings of unanesthetized waterfowl as "euthanasia."  The latter is in fact, a bold faced lie that totally bastardizes and renders meaningless, the term, "euthanasia.")

 

It is of course quite possible that the bureaucrats and officials responsible for these hideous and barbaric decisions and actions tell themselves there is "nothing wrong" with them but hide and lie about the massacres because they feel the public and media "wouldn't understand."

 

Well, that is actually quite correct.

 

Anyone with even half a moral conscious or sense of right and wrong "wouldn't understand" such atrocity masquerading as "removal" or even worse, "euthanasia."

 

The calendar has just now hit the month of June.

 

Thus far, we still have no word or press release of exactly when or where the next set of USDA goose roundups and gassings will occur this month around New York City.

 

The agencies, officials and USDA are apparently taking extra care this year to be even more secretive than they have been in the past.

 

But, we the public and the press have to finally say "No" to the secrecy, the cover-ups, the obfuscations, the euphemisms and most of all, the massacres.

 

We need to demand full disclosure.  We need to demand the truth.

 

But, most of all, we need to demand from our great city and its leaders, an end to the deadly contract with the United States Department of Agriculture for goose roundups and gassings.

 

New Yorkers -- and the innocent Canada geese deserve better. -- PCA

 

 

                                                          *********

 

 

 

 

Celebrating a Holiday Weekend -- They're BACK!

The holiday weekend began with a bang this past Saturday night.

 

That is when going to Harlem Meer, I suddenly discovered two new geese!

 

It seemed a bit strange at first that the two geese resting on the south embankment showed no reaction to my dogs.

 

Is Bozo chilling out?  He seems so mellow tonight!

 

Indeed, neither goose even looked at Tina or Chance.

 

But, then I noticed what surely had to be Bozo and Bonnie in the middle of the lake (their usual location in the evening).    I realized then, the two geese I was looking at were either new or returnees to the Meer.

 

But then, upon seeing me (and my dogs) Bozo, as usual, began to swim in my direction.

 

Oh, oh.....That's not going to be good for the new geese here!

 

And no, it surely wasn't good for the new arrivals.

 

As soon as he hit the embankment, Bozo immediately went after the new gander!

 

Wings flapping, loud honks and running take-offs.

 

Both geese hit the water with a good deal of commotion and flapping feathers!

 

Then, feeling victorious on having chased his new nemisis away, Bozo returned to the embankment, madly flapping his wings in wild celebration.

 

"There!  That' ill show 'em!"

 

But, Bozo didn't realize that the new gander was a bit stubborn and willful, too.

 

Rather than retreating, the new gander simply swam in a circle and then returned to his mate still standing on the embankment.   He too, flapped his wings when victoriously approaching his admiring lady love:

 

 "See?  I ain't gonna let us be chased from here!"

 

Bozo was preparing to charge again!

 

But, this time I got in between him and the new arrivals with a stern message:

 

"Now, Bozo, we cannot have that!  This is a BIG lake.  You need to be willing to SHARE it with your brethren!"  

 

The message seemed to work -- at least for the time being.

 

Bozo settled down and I gave him some reward for this good behavior.

 

There was another minor scuffle or two, but eventually all three geese kept peacefully to their respective sides and ultimately Bozo left to return to Bonnie still sitting abandoned, in the middle of the lake.

 

I am convinced now that Bonnie must ask herself daily, "How did I ever get stuck with this bozo of a gander?  He's always carousing and going off on jaunts every night!  

 

Poor Bonnie. She is the goose counterpart to, "football widow."

 

Fast forward to last night:

 

Memorial Day -- the ending of the holiday weekend.

 

Even at 8 PM, Central Park was still bustling with thousands of picnickers and families.

 

There was the celebratory and holiday spirit bristling through the still and very warm air.

 

I wasn't sure of what I would find when arriving back to Harlem Meer.

 

Had Bozo succeeded in sending the two new geese packing?

 

Were the few remaining waterfowl on the lake freaked out by all the human activity of the past couple of days, including endless fishing?

 

How were Brad and Angelina doing?

 

I was a little more than concerned about all these things, but as so often happens in these observations and endeavors, one can be in for some dramatic surprises:

 

It was in fact, ONE BIG PARTY when getting to Harlem Meer last night-- a party that INCLUDED a whole bunch of new waterfowl!

 

Imagine the shock when counting ten geese and at least a dozen new ducks at Harlem Meer!

 

There was even a mama mallard with four tiny ducklings swimming around in the middle of all the new avian commotion!

 

I could not believe my eyes!

 

Wow, where did all you guys come from?

 

Seven of the geese were either up on or very near the east embankment of the lake. 

 

One of them had to be Bozo.

 

Bozo was so busy trying to throw his weight and status around with the new geese, he did not even look at my two dogs.  Indeed, it must have been exhausting chasing this goose and that one.  But, because the new geese outnumbered him, they simply returned and seemed to have the last laugh at poor Bozo's expense.

 

"Ha, ha.  What's with this ol' gander anyway?  Man, you'd think he'd get tired by now!  But, that's OK.  We can indulge him!"

 

Turning from the silly goose games, I tossed some treats to the new mallard family.

 

But, perhaps I need not have worried so over mama duck who I have since named, "Jillian" after the aggressive, highly charged fitness instructor on, "The Biggest Loser."

 

Jillian it seems, is one very tough and 'fit" duck.

 

Any goose who dared try and steal Mama's and baby's treats was quickly and fiercely admonished and sent packing with feathers between legs. 

 

For a small bird who is barely 1/4 of the size of a Canada goose, Jillian packs quite the wallop.  As said many times, mallards can be surprisingly tough birds.  Its amazing to see a Canada goose flee from a tiny mallard -- especially one with babies.  But, that is exactly what happened.

 

Meanwhile, Brad and Angelina (the two domestic, flightless ducks) came also to the embankment, announcing their arrival with loud chattering and formidable body posture. 

 

Brad wasn't so interested in intimidating geese, as he was throwing his weight around with the other ducks.

 

Endlessly chattering away, both Brad and Angelina stalked and chased a bunch of hapless drakes from the embankment.

 

"Quick, begone with you!  Worthless mallards!   Move your butts to the other side of the lake!"

 

Oh well.  Brad has been that way since the beginning of spring. If the other ducks don't "get it" by now at Harlem Meer, they never will.   Brad and Angelina may rule with flightless wings, but those wings are, in fact, made of iron!

 

Meanwhile, it seems that even the fishes caught a break last night.

 

Oh sure, there were fisherman.  But, at least the ones I saw were using the shorter lines.

They were easy enough for the birds and presumably even the fish to swim away from and avoid.

 

So yes, it was quite the party last night at Harlem Meer.

 

But, I ain't talking about the people parties or holiday picnics.

 

I am talking about the geese and mallards who blessfully made it back to Central Park to celebrate the holiday weekend.

 

They're Back!

 

And hopefully, they all stay -- at least until the bloody, USDA goose roundups and gassings around the city this June are no more.

 

Ah, that they would never again occur in New York City!

 

But, is that wishing for a never-ending, holiday party?

 

YES!  

 

Indeed it is!

 

Boy, I bet all the birds at Harlem Meer slept good last night.  ;)  -- PCA

 

                                                           *******

 

The Geese Who Appreciate Culture

When arriving to Turtle Pond last night just before dusk, the first thing that struck was the large number of people still picnicking.   Meanwhile, just a few feet away, a guy was casting out a long fishing line on to the water.

 

Though for the moment, peaceful, the scene impressed me as a potential disaster waiting to happen.

 

But, hell, who am I to make predictions?  I have no degrees in fortune-telling.

 

The other thing that struck was that there were no ducks or geese on the water.

 

I turned to walk towards the little pier to look for mama and papa goose, when suddenly noticing the mother mallard with her six little ducklings swimming in the direction of the fisherman.

 

Oh no!

 

I headed back in the direction of the fisherman.  I was hoping he'd have the wherewithal  to pull his huge line out of the water with the approaching duck family, but, of course he did not.

 

"Excuse me," I said.  "Can you not see there is a mama mallard and ducklings right near your fishing line?  You need to pull the line out of the water until she passes."

 

"I don't gotta to do anything!" the man shouted back angrily. "I got a right to be here!"

 

"You don't have the right to harass wildlife!" I shouted back just as angrily. "There are rules you have to follow!"

 

The man muttered some obscenities.

 

I then raised my camera to shoot a photograph, saying, "If something happens to that mama or her ducklings I will have you on film and report you to authorities."

 

The fisherman then pulled the line out of the water.

 

At that moment, some big macho-type guy approached me, pointing to my two small dogs.

 

"You're not supposed to have dogs here!"

 

"That's not true," I said.  "Dogs aren't allowed on the Great Lawn, but they can be here." 

 

Ignoring what I had just said, the guy then turned to another woman with a small dog and yelled at her.

 

Meanwhile, wondering if the park had suddenly made some new rule barring dogs from the grassy area near the pond, I left the location to check out the signs posted near the entrance.  (I had said what needed to be said anyway and didn't care to stick around.)

 

Signs posted at the entrance to the Turtle Pond area said nothing about dogs.

 

A part of me wanted to return to the macho guy with the attitude about dogs, but it wasn't worth it.  Hopefully, other dog owners took time to read the signs.

 

Feeling annoyed with the way the evening was starting out, I suddenly noticed two geese grazing in the small grassy area that is fenced off from the public.

 

Not sure if it was mama and papa or two of the goslings returned, I walked in the direction of the geese.

 

Though at least 25 to 30 feet away, the two geese looked up, saw me and immediately started to enthusiastically approach the fencing in my direction!

 

The larger goose was limping.

 

It was obviously Papa and Mama! 

 

Feeling my spirits immediately lift, I quickened the pace to reach the two geese who were already waiting for me by the fence.

 

"Hi Mama!  Hi Papa!  How are you guys doing tonight?"

 

Papa goose gave a shot, low, greeting honk to me, but then a short warning hiss to my dogs.

 

Not to stress the geese anymore than they are already being stressed by dogs these days, I secured Tina and Chance to a nearby fence and returned to the geese.

 

I reached into my bag and pulled out some sunflower seeds and cooked rice in my hand.

 

Both, Mama and Papa began eating from my hand.

 

At that moment, a young couple stopped to observe the unusual scene, the young man taking a few photographs.

 

"Don't they bite when eating from your hand like that?" the young woman inquired curiously.

 

"No, no!" I laughed.  "They don't have teeth to bite!  Besides, geese are among the most gentle and peaceful animals on the planet.  I know these two."

 

"How do you know these two geese?" the woman asked, seeming to want to learn more about Canada geese.

 

I explained to her the history of Mama and Papa -- how they raised babies at Turtle Pond last year, how they returned with their grown goslings this year and how their new eggs were recently destroyed.  I also told her how geese mate for life, how the ganders protect their mates and families and how the geese are being harassed in Central Park.

 

"That is sad about the harassment," the woman replied.  "They seem like such sweet animals.  How do you know which goose is the female and which the gander?  They look alike."

 

"Oh, that is easy.  Notice when they walk.  Papa walks with a pronounced limp.  That is how I am always able to recognize him.   But, aside from that, ganders are usually a little bigger than the girls and they are almost always in a protective posture and stance -- you know, neck and head held high to look out for any dangers."

 

"That is so fascinating!" the woman proclaimed.

 

At that moment, another couple, perhaps in their 40's walked by and the woman  shouted out, "Don't they bite?"

 

"No, these geese are extremely gentle. It just tickles." I replied, smiling.

 

"Well, I remember that they bite!"

 

I wanted to answer that maybe the geese just bite ignorant or hostile people, but thought better of it.  It doesn't serve any purpose to try and argue with those who obviously aren't interested in learning anything, but rather just stop to agitate.

 

The couple walked on, the woman obviously preferring to live in her prejudices and misinformation about geese.  I am not sure why she said anything to me at all.

 

Meanwhile, I was a bit nervous with the park police driving around in little jeeps.

 

"I hope I don't get arrested for this," I quipped to the young couple still standing and watching.  "Technically, people aren't supposed to feed wildlife. Will you guys bail me out if they haul me away?"

 

"Sure!" they laughed.  "But, you don't have to worry.  We're sure the cops have better things to worry about!"

 

"Hm, I wouldn't be so sure."

 

With that, we bade goodnight and I then left Mama and Papa goose to go to the pier.

 

"You take good care of your lady," I said to papa goose as I retrieved my two dogs to leave.  "See you guys, later."

 

A few minutes later, I was at the little pier that overlooks Turtle Pond where I met several of the birder people I know.

 

Tina, my older Corgi mix dog immediately trotted up to the older gentleman who takes special delight in her.

 

"Hey, Tina, how you doing tonight?" He said, while enthusiastically petting my dog's head.

 

"Probably looking for treats once again.  You know, I only feed my dogs once a month," I joked.   "How you guys doing tonight?"

 

"Well, we're a bit disappointed not to be seeing the mallards of late," the woman birder answered somewhat dejectedly. "We can't imagine where they are."

 

"Good question," I replied.  "I guess they are either being chased out by the harassment or perhaps just don't want to be around the fishing."

 

I then told the woman about my experience with the fisherman just a short while before.

 

"Does the mama still have six ducklings?" the woman asked.  "We haven't seen her and the babies in a couple of days."

 

"I didn't get a good look on how many ducklings.  Perhaps five or six. I just didn't want them to get caught up in fishing line."

 

"I hear you," the woman replied.  "The fishermen are here all the time now. We don't know who to complain to.  Fishing has never been allowed at Turtle Pond and we don't know why it is now.  They are going to end up catching turtles."

 

Noticing, at that moment,  the fisherman leaving Turtle Pond, I answered, "Well, perhaps the idea should be just to make the fishermen feel unwelcomed -- just like they make the geese unwelcomed.   Unfortunately, there are no longer the 'No Fishing' signs to point to, but they still have to follow the rules.  They can't harass the wildlife, cast back the fishing lines and they have to release the fish back to the water."

 

"Why do you think they are coming here anyway, when they can fish at Harlem Meer and practically all over the city?' the woman asked.

 

"I was told the fisherman are complaining that they don't catch enough fish at the Meer and the ones they do catch are very tiny, young fish."

 

The fishermen finally gone and the sun just having set, we then noticed Mama and Papa goose back in the water and swimming confidently towards the little pier.

 

"Oh look!  There's Mama and Papa!" I exclaimed excitedly. "And they are coming here!"

 

At that point, a second gentleman told us about the new family of geese at 59th Street.

 

"Yep, there are five goslings there.  Amazing that they allowed 'em to hatch.  So far, they are all hangin' in there!"

 

"Sad that they didn't allow it here," the woman replied. "I am pretty sure they oiled the eggs of the mama goose here.  One egg was broken, but the others weren't.  The parents then abandon the nest.  Something was wrong."

 

The second gentleman tossed some small chicken bits to the turtles.  Mama and Papa goose ignored the chicken, but the turtles excitedly grabbed at it.

 

After a few moments, the two geese left to go to their small rock where they rest at night.

 

Music was suddenly and melodically flowing through the air from the nearby Delacourt Theatre. 

 

"Oh look!, Mama and Papa are settling down to listen to their free concert!" I laughed. 

 

"Imagine that?" the woman smiled.  "Geese who appreciate culture!"

 

"They are so romantic, aren't they?" I agreed.

 

And with that, I figured it was time to leave. 

 

Gently tugging Tina away from the man who was still petting her, I bade the birder people a fond good night and they the same to me.

 

At least for the moment, all was peaceful again.

 

And Mama and Papa had a nice concert to listen to and appreciate.  -- PCA

 

 

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The Open and Extraordinary Lives of Canada Geese

 

Birders are interesting people.

 

One typically sees birders either early in the morning or at dusk when the many species of birds of our parks are the most active.

 

Birders are easy to recognize by their binoculars and usually very professional cameras with long, powerful zoom lenses.  Sometimes they even carry tripods.

 

Sometimes I ask myself if I am a "birder?"

 

I may have started off that way. 

 

Taking my dogs to the park because I love to spot wildlife and enjoy taking photos.

 

That is how, in fact, I became interested in Canada geese:

 

There used to be many Canada geese in Central Park -- particularly in the winters when at least a couple of hundred of them would huddle with the mallards in the Central Park Reservoir through the bitter months of December through February.

 

I marveled at the birds' stoic resistance to the winds, storms and whatever other challenges nature could throw at them.

 

And I also marveled at how quickly the geese and ducks could recognize people (even from a good distance) and come comically slip-sliding on the ice to catch seeds or other treat.

 

But, as soon as the ice melted and we got the first glimpses of early spring, the geese and most of the mallards suddenly left the Reservoir to migrate to places far north to breed and start life anew.   Usually, these migrations occurred in mid February -- way before the actual onset of spring.

 

When first discovering the suddenly and nearly empty Reservoir in those February days, I initially felt great sense of loss and missing. 

 

Would I ever see my "friends" again -- the geese and mallards I had so come to know and  worry about over the winter?  The birds, who over the cold, bitter months had come to know and greet me like I was their long lost mother? 

 

How foolish and egotistical was I to ever think these birds would forego their normal migration patterns because of any "attachment" to humans or the treats we sometimes bring.   

 

Those who claim that Canada geese "stay" in those areas they are fed by humans don't know what they are talking about.  The geese may recognize and appreciate those humans who are generous to them for a time.

 

But, when nature and their biological clock says, "go," they go. 

 

I could not, therefore, be sure I would ever see my "geesies" again once they took off for Canada or the Arctic.  I could only wish for them safe journeys home and for myself, that I would see them again the following year.

 

This past winter however, there were not many geese and mallards at the Reservoir. (Perhaps about 50 on a clear day.)

 

But, I could not be sure if the lower numbers were due to decimation and predations on the species (especially the geese, obviously) or that we simply had a colder and more brutal winter than the previous few years.

 

This past winter, the Reservoir was almost entirely frozen over, except for the tiny area of open water where there is a continual water sprout.   That is the area where the small group of wintering geese and mallards were forced to crowd around and huddle.   Perhaps the available open water was simply insufficient to support two hundred birds. 

 

But, if I am always a little sad to see the wintering geese and mallards migrate back north in February, there are always the returning "resident" birds who migrate back to New York City after spending their winters in the south.

 

Usually, they start to arrive back in in late February or early March.

 

But, as noted previously, we have not had huge flocks of geese and mallards returning to Central Park this year.

 

I cannot attribute that to "brutal weather."

 

Rather, I attribute the lower numbers to human predation campaigns against the geese throughout the country, as well as the "harassment" against them in Central Park.

 

If there has been any relief however this spring, it is to experience (at least), the safe return of  Mama, Papa and their five grown goslings from last year to Turtle Pond (i.e. "the family.").   It has been total joy to realize too, that the birds remember and appreciate me from last year.

 

Apparently to the geese, a friendship established with a human remains that way for life.

 

Unfortunately, the goslings have apparently since been chased out of Turtle Pond by the harassment program  and the new nest and eggs that Mama and Papa created were destroyed in late April.

 

As someone closely observing and loving these birds, these latter events have been heartbreaking.

 

Still, the question remains:

 

Do all these things make me a "birder?"

 

Probably not.  I don't after all, own a professional camera or even a pair of binoculars.

 

Moreover, I could not tell a woodpecker from an infinite number of other, rare birds.

 

But, I do know Canada geese.

 

I know the geese because of their tremendous and open willingness (unlike most other bird species) to invite us humans into their extraordinary, mysterious and fascinating lives.

 

We don't need binoculars to find the geese, nor do we need expensive, professional cameras to photograph them.

 

On the contrary, when recognizing and trusting humans, the "geesies" will walk right up and  pose for us.

 

We don't even need a zoom lens.  --- PCA

 

 

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Through a Child's Eyes

Its been a grim number of weeks since the arrival of spring.

 

Virtually all the geese and most of the mallards who migrated back to Central Park from wintering locations in the south have since been chased out.

 

However, the most recent count of geese at Prospect Park (20) seems to indicate a few new arrivals.

 

I wonder if the goslings from Turtle Pond might be among them?

 

If so, they will soon be harassed out of Prospect Park.

 

Though thrilled to see two of the five grown goslings returning to their parents at Turtle Pond in recent weeks, I have not seen the two social geese now in some days.

 

That, in fact is what precipitated the short conversation with the birder/photographer the other evening at Turtle Pond.  I asked him if he had seen the two other geese?

 

He told me he wasn't seeing many geese at all, but had observed the Border Collie harassment regularly, even as late as a couple of weeks ago.

 

It is all very distressing especially considering there are so few geese in Central Park to harass.  (A grand total of 4 geese presently at the north end of CP.)

 

But, even when the goose numbers blossomed during and following the spring migratory return, they were never high by any stretch of the imagination.

 

The highest number I counted at Harlem Meer in April was 23 and at Turtle Pond 13.   There were about 7 geese on the boat lake at that time.  There are none now.

 

Were these the kinds of numbers that should have necessitated harassment and banishment?

 

Central Park of course denies trying to "banish" the geese from its lawns and watercourses.  Even when admitting to having used the Border Collies in the past, the claim is that they only want to make geese "go from part of the park to the other."

 

But, that too, is nonsense.

 

The collies don't direct the terrorized birds on where to go.

 

Having witnessed "Geese Relief" in action last November at Harlem Meer, the swan who was chased out along with the geese, shovelers and mallards has never returned.  It might have been "Hector" I saw at the Reservoir one time more than a month ago.  But, the swan has since presumably been chased out of there, too.

 

And that is still one more problem with "goosebuster" programs.  They not only harass the geese, but the other waterfowl that hang with the geese.

 

It seems to explain why all the lakes and ponds one sees now at Central Park are nearly devoid of geese and ducks.

 

Still, there are those precious few avian stalwarts managing to hang in there, despite the harassment, the fishing, the off-leash dogs and the ever increasing human traffic.

 

Last night I returned to Harlem Meer.   I went fairly late in the evening in order to avoid seeing the fishing and the kind of nervous and evasive behavior observed in the waterfowl  during daylight hours now.

 

To my great sense of relief, all was peaceful and normal -- at least according to what "normal" is these days.

 

Brad and Angelina (the two flightless, domestic ducks) were swimming in the water and came upon the embankment to boss around the few other ducks there.  Both "alpha" ducks were back to their brazen and confident selves.

 

Meanwhile, Bozo and Bonnie, the only two geese still stubbornly clinging on at the Meer, were in the middle of the lake peacefully resting.

 

Upon seeing my two dogs and me, Bozo swam to and came up on the embankment. But, his shyer and less trustful-of-humans mate stayed behind.

 

There has been a marked change in Bozo over the past week or so.

 

He no longer hisses as my dogs, (though he watches them very carefully).

 

However, I saw Bozo hiss at a tiny Chihuahua the other day at the Meer.  The young girl (about ten-years-old) who was holding the Chihuahua seemed to have a wisdom far beyond her years. 

 

"I guess he's protecting his flock," she said, with a smile.

 

"Yes, he is," I told her.  "You are very smart to realize that!"

 

Funny how kids sometimes are so much more intuitive and observant than adults. Perhaps its because they have not yet been jaded and brainwashed by all the nonsense and distraction that is out there.

 

Their vision is 20/20 and their minds are receptive to what is in front of them.

 

And so, like the young girl from the other day, my heart warmed when Bozo came up to greet me last night -- minus the hissing to my now familiar dogs.

 

I tossed Bozo some cracked corn, which he nibbled off the grass. I then retreated to a nearby park bench to sit with my dogs for a while.

 

It was a lovely scene: 

 

Bozo sharing the cracked corn with a couple of mallards.   Brad and Angelina throwing their weight around with the other ducks, gently reminding them of who rules the Meer.

 

But, then the peaceful scene was disrupted by a young man running by with  two large dogs off leash.   One of the dogs ran briskly towards the water's edge.

 

All of the birds suddenly had to dive and scatter towards the water.

 

Bozo started to lazily swim back towards the middle of the lake to be by his mate.

 

I bade all the birds a peaceful good night.

 

Walking back from the Meer, my spirits, like the child met the other day, felt lifted, whole and rejuvenated.

 

Still, a part of me wished for a day Brad and Angelina might find a real home where they could spend their final days not having to escape and evade free-roaming dogs, endless "goose harassment," fishing lines and in the winter, blizzards, bitter temperatures and an almost totally frozen lake.

 

No wonder these two ducks are so tough.  They have never had it easy.

 

And small wonder too, Bozo is so "tough."

 

The geese don't have it easy anywhere these days.  -- PCA

 

 

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