Trego's Mountain Ear

With sub-irrigated grass, the haying comes a little later for me.  It’s been good this year . . . any year when you don’t encounter a fawn with a mower is a good year, and my drum mower is a bit safer for them than the old sickle bar mowers.  This year I have one doe with twins and one with a single fawn to watch.  On the hot days, the fawns head to the pond for a drink, at times best described as not of their mothers choosing. 

As I raked, I watched Gander return with his flock – they’re still ragged on formation landings, but this time I realized he’s showing them how to lose altitude with a barrel roll on the approach.  These years of watching him train and condition his goslings for the Fall migration have been educational for me.

As he came in with his mate, the bald eagle was in the tree, looking for a goose to pick off.  Apparently he also recognizes Gander.  I’m not sure how it is that the Gander doesn’t give off victim vibes – but the eagle watched the geese land, then flew away.  Last year Gander and Goose II adopted 2 goslings whose parents had been killed by the eagle – but 3 goslings turned down the offer with a “You’re not my Mom” attitude.  The amount of effort that goes into training and conditioning the goslings for the Fall migration flights is impressive to watch.

As I’m picking back up on this on Sunday, I notice that the youngest 2 batches of goslings and their parents are gone – now it’s just a question of finding out if they’ve joined the old gander for his flight training or if the parental geese are planning to home-school them before the migration.

The hay is all baled and put away.  I guess it’s time to get back to work with the sawmill.  There’s a bit of work tied in with retirement.