Trego's Mountain Ear

Over the past few years, my sign of Spring has moved from daffodils to goslings.  As I write, our first two hatches have moved from the nest to the ponds – and they had to move, because there is an adolescent bald eagle who classifies them as prey.  When they’re on the water, the goslings are safe.  When they’re on shore, they’re in danger.

Along with the nesting geese, we have ducks – very rarely do I see two coots together, so I’m fairly certain she is working on a hatch of little coots.  There is a tremendous difference – the geese work hard at their parental  responsibilities, while the coots couldn’t be more lackadaisical.   One year the only reason the coot hatchlings survived is because they attached themselves to the goose family.  Those little coots were resilient.  Hopefully, this year will be good for the coots.

Gander is aging.  He continues to face off the eagle that threatens his family, but now he is a bit slower.  General protection of waterfowl is left for other geese, he stays close to his own.  This year one of the goslings seems more firmly imprinted on him than on mother goose – a small group between the pair, then Daddy’s gosling beside him.

This year has a gorgeous cinnamon teal on the pond.  I’m not certain whether his mate is nesting or not.  I think I’ve seen two mallard hens nesting – but the grass is growing around them, and it will be some time before they move out into the pond’s center with this year’s hatchlings.

Nearly 30 deer fill the little field each evening.  There are a lot more deer than there were in my youth.  And many more turkeys.  Somehow, it’s hard for me to understand what people see in hunting turkeys.

And as Spring comes along, I wait for the lions and bears of Summer.  I’ve always lived outside of town – and I think I know why.