First Printed:
November 29, 1998
Habits of mind are hard to break. We know something is different and we are curious to find out why or how, but we just can't seem to break through the old formula and actually see what is happening. For example, people ask, "Why are the geese migrating north now? Why are flocks moving over my house every day? Why are geese in the field or on the pond down the street?" The old idea that geese migrate high overhead in long vees, honking melodiously, is the only pattern we have in our heads.
The first thing to get straight is they are not "Canadian" geese. True, those geese that still migrate over us do indeed nest in northern Canada, but these birds spend their winters near the southern coast of the United States from Maryland to Florida, so they should be considered "North American." The correct name for this bird is Canada goose, a species that is widespread over the continent and is divided into twelve "races" which vary only in size, subtle coloration, and migratory habits. In the midwest and west some races have always bred within the borders of the United States and have not needed to make a long migration to reach open water during the winter.
When Fish and Wildlife agencies in New England decided it would be nice to have more geese for sportsmen to hunt during the New England winter, they naturally turned their eyes on those races of the Canada goose that were more "sedentary", lacking the impulse to migrate great distances. Thus midwest geese were trapped and brought here, released into the wild to nest in our beaver ponds and linger along our rivers and coasts well into the cold season. Agency officials might have reconsidered this plan if they had anticipated what would happen.
I remember the pair that first nested on an old ice pond on my property twenty years ago. It was a delight to see a parent bird nestled in a bed of down on a tiny island as the mate swam serenely nearby, standing guard. The yellow goslings were a bundle of fluff, tied to their parents by invisible strings. A mystery was why they never stayed around the pond after fledging. The parents soon took them on a long journey overland, and I even happened upon the little family once far from any water. Where were they going?
In order to answer that, you need to know what geese eat. Ponds supply very little food for them unless there are shallows with emergent or underwater vegetation, and forests provide barely any food at all. Geese prefer succulent grasses and grains, such as provided by lawns and fields, for instance. If there is little of this kind of vegetation at the nest site, the parents have to bring the goslings on foot to a suitable forage area.
When the young can fly, then the birds congregate in flocks and find a body of water on which to roost nightly, and a feeding ground on which to graze. At this time of year we can see the flocks standing by the tens or hundreds in a meadow or corn field, ripping at the stubble or gobbling up the scattered kernels. It is an impressive sight, all those graceful bodies and necks filling the field like living statuary. Only the few alert sentinels, eyeing the straying dog or intruding human, warn of the impending takeoff of these hardy air beasts. Off they go, and back and forth they fly between field and pond, the two poles of their existence, honking their hearts out.
In this manner they transfer nutrients from the field to the pond, or just spread those nutrients on the field. They are not easy to hunt when they are comfortable on ponds and fields near houses. They are big, not particularly fearful, but extremely watchful and cautious. They have found safety in our back yards, tame birds instead of game birds. How, then, do we control the population so the goose and its waste does not foul our reservoirs and golf courses?
No one really has the answer to that question fully, but in the meantime we can still enjoy the wild and truly beautiful call of our North American goose and their graceful presence in our midst.