The Bird Saga Continues

I failed to mention that about a month prior to all of this, there were nests built up in the gutters above the garage. We weren't aware of them until a gust of wind blew 2 of the babies out of their nests and they came tumbling down toward the garage door, which so happened to be open at the time. One went scurrying in and the other one went in the opposite direction. Needless to say, poor old Randy was stuck with making sure that bird was out of the garage before either of us started our cars. What we didn't realize in all the gusting of birds, was that 2 more were in the garage, which we found the next day. One was behind the plantation shutter and the other had met its demise, I'm unhappy to say. Randy made sure the surviving one was put out safely in the bushes so mom and dad could see it and he "took care of the other one." (So help me if anyone ever excavates this yard they are going to be amazed at the bird bones they find.) The next thing you know we found a Mom or Dad bird in our recycling bin...dead of course. I am starting to take this personally.

Back to more recent bird happenings...I went out yesterday morning to do my daily AM perusal of the garden and there were bird feathers all over the place. Moulting has begun it appears. I don't know how else to account for the many feathers scattered everywhere. Will keep you posted on that one, but before I ventured down to the pond, I saw something that appeared to be an armadillo floating on the water. Randy came out and agreed that's how it looked to him too, so we got our trusty binoculars out just to make sure. We still couldn't discern what it was until Randy finally decided to take the trek down to see for himself. "It's a dead goose," he shouts up to me. The next thing I'm wondering is if it's the old gray goose, and then the ending to a childhood song that I hadn't sung in years came to mind..."the old gray goose is dead." It wasn't though...yes, the goose was dead, but it wasn't the old gray one, because about 20 minutes later the word must have gotten out because they had all formed what appeared to be a funeral procession down to the far end of the pond where no one wants to go because EVERYTHING finds a resting place down there. At this point, I have not seen the goose's mate, but I am sure I will as our yard is where they come to mourn. I have determined that is not a bad thing necessarily, because in the realm of goosedom, they seem to be quite respectful of a fellow goose's mourning period. So you see, we provide land for one goose as opposed to MANY geese and there is less goose excrement as a result. (I try to look for the good in every situation.) I will start counting geese again. We should be down to 22 now. My little gardening buddy, Olivia, asked me where all the other geese died in the course of their lives. I didn't want to tell her about goose hunting season, so I just said, "Whenever their time comes, that's where they drop." She seemed satisfied with that so I just left it alone. I really do think it's a parent's job to discuss death and religion with their children.

P.S. There are 22 geese now...an even number. Maybe the one left from last year's catastrophe died of a broken heart and now all is even again. I would hate to think a new family had been touched by sorrow, because we all know...their cardinal rule is that they do not mate again after a mate dies. They've got my attention once again. I will keep you posted. In the meantime, just enjoy the chirping of the birds and pray that they will enjoy long lives and happiness.