(Photos: 1-- The Bradly Brigade last night. 2-- Buster honking, "Don't You Forget About Me!" 3-- "Crazy Mallards.")
"Those crazy mallards!"
I have found myself thinking the above more than once over the past few days.
But, more about that later....
In less than one week, we have gone in NYC from dressing for the Arctic to dressing for the Bahamas.
Temperatures have roller-coasted almost 50 degrees from as low as 13 degrees just a few days ago to a spring-like 62 degrees yesterday!
Likewise, the waterfowl at Central Park has transformed from the "hunkering down" posture of a winter cold blast to the liberating antics more closely associated with springtime.
Thursday night when returning to Harlem Meer, I was surprised to see a bunch of geese and ducks congregated along the south embankment.
Obviously, the rising 40 degree temperature was far more comfortable and conducive for fraternizing.
But, as I approached, the gaggle of about ten geese headed immediately for the water.
I had initially guessed the geese to be Buster and his flock, but was obviously wrong.
Buster and his shy six were on their way to me from the middle of the lake, honking their loud and familiar greeting.
"Honk... honk.....Here we are!"
Meanwhile, the migratory geese took a nearby position in the lake to casually observe from "safe" distance what was happening around them. Geese, it seems, are infinitely curious creatures, but safety is always their main priority.
Unlike the previous night when numerous ducks and geese squatted down on the ground (like cold humans tightly wrapping arms around body to keep warm), none of the birds sat in crunched position to conserve body heat. On the contrary, they were all quite animated.
Brad pranced up to me immediately to eat from my hand. His buddies, Piggly and Wiggly crowded around my feet to grab whatever Brad missed or rejected. (Brad mostly loves the black oiled sunflower seeds and tends to sift them out from the rest of treats.)
But, it wasn't just Piggly and Wiggly trouncing on my feet to catch what Brad missed or tossed aside.
A number of mallards did as well.
The result was I was almost cemented in place! -- Afraid to move a foot for fear of stepping on one of the ducks!
"Come on, guys! Step back a little so a gal can move!"
But, the ducks did not listen. They were apparently too high on life, warm weather and fluttering desserts.
Meanwhile, Buster walked up and honked to remind me of his and his gaggle's presence.
"What about us?"
(As if I could possibly miss this huge gander who towers over virtually every bird at the Meer!)
"Yes, Buster. Here is some for you. But, you have to share with Brad."
Buster is so accommodating and gentle with people and Brad. (I sometimes wonder if Buster likes people better than other geese and might makes a good pet?)
But, he is certainly not so sweet and gentle with the other members of his flock!
Anytime one of his charges moves a step forward and attempts to take a seed from my hand, Buster immediately responds with a hard peck on the goose's back!
"Mind your manners and know your place!"
The poor admonished geese immediately heed the warning.
I sometimes wonder why the members of Buster's gaggle put up with so much abuse and never dare to fight back?
Then again, such things are not for me to question. Obviously, Buster has been an effective leader in keeping his charges safe and finding food sources for them.
Lines drawn and physical reminders of those lines are apparently part of goose hierarchy and "family values."
Buster is just a very different leader and family head than Papa goose from the Boat Lake who always lets his mate and offspring eat first.
Obviously not all geese gaggles and families are the same. Perhaps this is another way Canada geese are remarkably similar to humans.
The evening being so pleasant and my small bag of treats quickly gone, I sat with my dogs on a nearby park bench for a few minutes to watch the scenes before me.
There was much animated "conversation" among the mallards, a few of which turned into the "bar room brawls" that one commonly sees during the spring and especially when geese are present to keep lookouts for any danger or threat.
Different pairs tosseled on the ground, usually with one duck chasing the other into the water.
"Crazy mallards!" I thought. "They are just like rowdy drunks in a bar!"
Meanwhile, the migratory geese still looked curiously to all the crazy shenanigans from their safe spot in the water.
One could almost hear them thinking, "This is a pretty wild place. Guess they don't call it, 'fun city' for nothing."
Most of the geese presently at Harlem Meer are, I believe, migratory.
They tend to mind and go about their business in a peaceful, dignified, but cautious way. It seems if they have any questions they honk them out to Buster and he responds back.
As Brad is the respected leader among all the ducks at Harlem Meer, Buster is the respected "resident" gander among all the geese as he so knows the environment and any real threats. -- You have a question, ask Buster. He presumably knows everything.
As the ground ducks and geese continued to graze and sweep up remaining seeds from the grass, I gathered my dogs to leave.
As usual, Brad, Piggly and Wiggly looked up and immediately began to escort me, as did other ducks and of course, Buster and his troupe.
The mysterious avian parade that I still cannot figure out.
"All right, guys. Thanks for the escort. I think I can find my way out now. You guys have a wonderful night and no more fights, you crazy mallards!"
Arriving home about 40 minutes later, I put on the TV and sat down to relax.
That is when I noticed my shoes and socks.
I normally wear light red sports shoes to the park with white socks.
But, the socks had streaks of black on them and the shoes were covered in brown dirt!
What the hell?
I took off the shoes to look at the soles, but the bottoms were clean! It was just the tops that looked like I had just walked through a major mid west, dust bowl!
And then it dawned on me.
The mallards standing and walking on the tops of my socks and shoes!
"Those crazy mallards!"
I then thought of the old Crystal Gayle song, "Don't It Makes My Brown Eyes Blue?"
The mallards had turned my white socks black!
Thank God, I have a washing machine.-- Which has been very busy over the past few nights.
"Crazy mallards!"
Maybe it is time to bring winter back -- at least for the sake of my shoes, socks and washing machine. -- PCA
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