<p>Every now and again I catch myself almost saying “Canadian geese” rather than “Canada geese” which is the proper name. It’s a common mistake, I think.</p>
<p>My excuse is that I first learned it incorrectly, and it wasn’t until later that I discovered my error. Like many words, names or ideas, once a thing get settled in the mind, it’s hard to change the way you think about it. At any rate, Canada geese have been on my mind lately. Well, at least two of them have been.</p>
<p>Becky and I often use the dead-end road near our home. Few houses, very little traffic, tall trees and a creek on one side and an open field on the other all combine to make it a quiet and peaceful stretch for running or walking. It is a good place to clear one’s mind. The dead-end makes a couple of bends, and near one is a small pond.</p>
<p>This time of year our running will often surprise a turtle or two sunning on a log in the water. Sometimes we see a fish slowly making an S near the pond’s surface. But this is the first spring we have noticed a pair of Canada geese using the pond for more than a stopover on the way to somewhere else.</p>
<p>After a few sightings it became clear the two birds intended to make it their home.</p>
<p>I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Canada geese living so close to our property. We, too, have a small pond, and I remembered the stories people told of flocks of Canada geese moving in and taking over. I had heard tales of aggressive geese chasing and biting humans who got too near to what they considered their space. I knew of the mess a large group of geese can make with their droppings. I wasn’t sure what if anything could be done about these avian interlopers.</p>
<p>We had heard somewhere that birds of this species mate for life. This pair certainly seemed to be happily mated and were always together foraging the fields or paddling the pond. Two birds contentedly connected. And then one day we saw only one.</p>
<p>The next few days as we ran by we would see the lone goose drifting slowly across the pond, its neck and head lying flat across the water, or we would spot it wandering mateless through the open field. What had happened to the other goose? Being humans we projected our own fears, worries and dark imaginings. Hadn’t we heard gun shots recently? Have the coyotes been making more noise than usual? Suddenly the pair of Canada geese weren’t a threatening annoyance, but a sad story of death and lost love.</p>
<p>A week passed. As we were running by the pond the mail carrier’s vehicle pulled beside us. We stopped to chat, and soon the topic turned to the lone goose. The three of us were looking at the water when suddenly we all pointed to something brownish near the pond’s edge, a low hump barely visible among the grasses. After some hard eye straining and a bit of knowledgable discussion—the mail carrier had once owned geese—we concluded it was the other goose sitting on a nest. Yay. Becky and I finished our run in happy spirits.</p>
<p>As I have been thinking about geese, I realize I have been operating under false assumptions. According to Professor Google, although Canada geese mate for life, once a mate dies an individual will find another mate. That is nice to know.</p>
<p>I also reflected on my attitude toward our bird visitors from the Great White North. As a group, I had mostly negative feelings for Canada geese. When I saw them as individuals, however, I had more generous welcoming feelings. Such a shift in attitude would likely be useful to me in many situations.</p>
<p>Last time we checked, the chicks had not yet appeared. Maybe we’ll run down the road later and see how our new neighbors are doing.</p>
