The Triumphant Return of the Weathergeese

After what seemed like a never-ending blast of winter, spring finally peaked her warm, welcoming head out from under the snow this weekend. The sun shone through, melting away layers of snow and ice.


Joey and I spent a good portion of Saturday and Sunday strolling down random streets. Lila frolicked in the fields. Life was good.


Cut to Monday morning. After begrudingly readying myself for work, I leashed Lila.  We stepped outside. The wind blew its sharp icy breath and in the distance I saw ....


THE WEATHERGEESE!  (If you have no idea what weathergeese are, read this first.)

"WHAT?" I asked, shouting at no one in particular. "You aren't supposed to be back." I said to the geese, oblivious to the glances of other work-bound neighbors.

"No, no, no. It's supposed to be spring. Why are you back?" If I was my neighbor, I would avoid me. They probably all think, "There's that crazy girl talking to the geese."


Lila glanced at the geese, confused as to why I sounded upset. As we closed in on the geese, two soldier geese cried the alarm.

Lila LIKED the honks. She ran towards the geese with full speed. The soldier geese honked faster, wings flapping. Halfway towards the geese, Lila stopped dead in her tracks and went to the bathroom instead.

After she finished, she walked away from both the geese and myself as if she were too cool for school.

A soldier goose eyed Lila. When she was finally a safe distance away, he let out a honk which I interpreted as, "What just happened?"

I looked at the goose and shrugged. I too couldn't explain Lila's bizarre actions.

After leashing Lila and returning her to the apartment, I went off to work.

I returned from work expecting to see the field filled with geese, preparing for a winter storm.

Instead, I saw this -

This is a picture of approximately 25 ROBINS. To the right of this was another group of an additional 25 robins for a grand total of 50 ROBINS!


Um, what?

What happened to my weather geese? Were these the new spring weather robins?

Was there an EPIC BATTLE between geese and robins? The victor laying claim to the next months' weather?

OR have my weathergeese turned INTO springweatherrobins? 

Ok, realistically, I know the geese haven't morphed into these tiny, red-breasted birds. Yet still, a small, teeny tiny, eensy, weensy part of me thinks, "what if the very soldier goose I saw this morning is still on the field, tiny and less intimidating?"

No one is scared of a robin.

Am I now left to predict weather solely on the migratory pattern of birds?

Tuesday morning, I planned to greet my springweatherrobins, but instead laid eyes on an empty field. No geese, no robins.

"Oh well," I thought to myself. "They must have moved on."


Tuesday afternoon after returning from work, I made my way to the apartment. In the distance, I heard a noise. I glanced towards the fields on to be greeted by THE WEATHERGEESE! 


I bet you thought they were gone. NOPE! Apparently, the robins and geese are sharing custody of the fields. Neither of them likes the other, so they schedule their field time accordingly. 

Although, rather than the usual 50 weathergeese, only 10 showed up. So maybe they knew a small snow was on it's way.

As I made my way inside, I called out to the weathergeese, "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME! What am I supposed to do? IS THIS A SIGN? WHAT DO YOU - Oh hey RayRay - I waved at him- I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS!"

In case you were wondering, RayRay is my neighbor. He already knows I am crazy so I don't think he was even slightly phased by my outcry. 

I really don't know. Are they trying to send me a message? Am I supposed to interpret their presence as something more than just the weather? I don't know. Will I ever see the robins again? I don't know. What is it about my neighborhood that makes it THE place to be if you're a bird? I DON'T KNOW!

Thank goodness I took pictures. Each time I asked Joey if he saw the geese or robins on the field, he said he didn't know what I was talking about - there wasn't anything on the field. I AM NOT THIS CRAZY!

I think the weathergeese are trying to hold out with the last of winter while the weatherrobins are cheering on spring. If this is the case, GO SPRINGWEATHERROBINS! Weathergeese, I love you, but I am finished with this snow.

Point of the Story: Bring on the sunshine! I am ready for spring. Let's go SPRINGWEATHERROBINS! ....And hey to RayRay.

Weathergeese

The weatherpeople have a hard job. They have to deal with the fact that when they correctly predict the weather, no one gives them any credit. Yet, when they get it wrong, everyone blames them. That seems like a LOT of pressure.

I appreciate the weatherpeople. HOWEVER, I have found a more accurate weather source. A source that has informed me of EVERY snow storm we've had this winter season. What is this magical source that in my experience has correctly predicted 100% of the snowstorms that have occurred this winter season?


A flock of geese.


That's right. A random flock, maybe flocks because it is a lot of geese, that always show up a day or two before the storm. So far that geese are 4 for 4 for weather predictions. 100%? Perfection. That's as accurate as you can get.

**UPDATE: The geese are now FIVE FOR FIVE!!! Amazing! From now on, the minute the geese show up, I am going to the grocery store to stock up for a storm.


Lila, however, is completely uninterested in geese UNTIL she absentmindedly wanders close to them. When she gets too close, one of the soldier geese, who stands guard, flaps his wings and honks, signaling to other soldier geese that danger is lurking nearby. If the predator (Lila) gets too close, the soldier geese alert all of the grazing geese with repetitive HONK HONK HOOONNNNNKK. The flock then shifts their position. If the predator (Lila) follows, the geese take off, safe in flight.

For Lila, the taking off part is the MOST FUN EVER! She loves to chase the geese as they slowly rise from the ground. However, Lila is always disappointed when they fly away. She chases them, seeming to yell, "WAIT, come back! I want to play! Let me SMELL YOU!" 

However, if the geese are accompanied by goslings, unable to fly, then it's another story. Because instead of flying away, the soldier goose prepares for battle.

Back off. Those fluffy yellow things behind me are my babies. You don't mess with my babies. 

Get too close to goslings and Momma Goose temporarily turns into a cat, HISSING at you. That's right, even though these flying creatures have beaks, geese possess the ability to hiss.

The first time I heard a goose hiss, I was 12 years old. My school took us to a pond in the woods to measure the levels of stuff in the pond. For the life of me, I can't remember what we were measuring. 

Of course, the teacher wouldn't let the students collect the water needed for the measurements because a student could fall into the pond and drown. Who knew 13 years later, I would have rescued a total of 3 people from drowning? One I rescued was a sixty year old man in white water rapids. That was a good save. I will tell that story another day. 


Being that we weren't allowed to collect the water, all the 12 year old students stood around, bored, looking for more interesting things to do. Two boys quickly found that thing. They spotted a nest on the ground. In it were eggs. The boys snuck away from the rest of us in order to investigate the nest. Being a good student, I stayed with the group, but positioned myself so that I could still see the boys. The two rushed over to the nest to examine the eggs, but as they reached a distance of 10 feet away from the nest out of NOWHERE  a goose CHARGED towards them, wings flailing, beak open, tongue out, HISSING - ready to attack. 

I love animals. I love geese. I love their honk because it makes me laugh. It's all "Hhhhhhonnnnnnnnnk." But in that moment, nothing seemed as terrifying as this goose. Imagine a miniature charging rhinoceros, but instead of a horn, it has a beak, open, tongue out, hissing like a snake - that is the reality of an angry goose. These two humans were threatening her babies and that was unacceptable.

The boys went from sneaky, pranksters to scared babies in a matter of seconds. One let out a high pitch shriek causing the rest of my class to turn. The other boy repeatedly apologized to the goose. "Look, we're sorry" he stuttered, "we aren't going to get any closer, we just wanted to see the eggs, but..." HISS HISS said the angry goose. "Ok, we'll just go now" stammered the boy. With that, he stepped backwards slowly. As he did, the goose flomped forward, chest puffed out, wings out, hiss steady.

Under normal circumstances, geese waddle, penguins waddle, ducks waddle, but when stressed or angry, the funny little waddle morphs into an angry, quick paced walk that I can call THE FLOMP. "Flomp" is the sound their little webbed feet make as they rush towards their agressor in a final stand to protect everything they hold dear. When flomping, the animal covers much more land.

Oh my gosh! I have created a new word. Not only that, but I gave a definition. I used it in a sentence. I provide the past tense and gerund of the word. Someone alert Webster, Urban, or Oxford Dictionary they need to have this word added ASAP. 

Years from now, my great-great-great granchild will hold a picture of me up to a bunch of seated children and say, "This is your great-great-great-great grandmother, Rachel. She invented the word FLOMP." Too cool. 

The boys backed away with hands up, leaning forward, almost bowing to the goose to show that they didn't mean any disrespect. Once they were far enough away from the nest, the goose reverted back to goose form and went to check on her eggs.

They boys left unscathed, but I am positive that incident added angry goose to the list of their fears. It sure added goose to my list of animals not to mess with.

Hmm, that was a very anti-climatic story. Sorry for the disappointment. 

The weather-geese showed up on Saturday morning. I am guessing they are flying back from Florida or wherever they went for the winter. However, since they have stopped over, I can only assume a storm is imminent.

As Lila and I walked on Sunday morning, I approached the geese for a photo op. Since the last time the geese arrived, Lila chased them off, I kept us far enough away that the geese felt Lila was a non-issue. Unfortunately, this made for a poor photo of them.

My neighbors are geese, FIFTY OF THEM! They are rather quiet. Perhaps, geese are less honktastic when on the ground. Their presence makes me smile and go to the grocery store to stock up for the upcoming storm.

So, when a big storm is threatening to touch down and you're not sure whether to believe the forecasts, drop me an email and I'll go check with my weathergeese.

Point of the Story: The weather-geese know what's up.