Last
weekend, we went down to the local pond for a look at the new baby geese. You
know how it is. You see them every year. They look exactly the same every year.
Yet, somehow, it’s a brand new exciting experience every year.
I really, REALLY wanted to share the video with you, but the computer won't let me upload it. However, here's a nice photo of the little superstar.
There
were actually two families of geese at the pond. The first set consisted of two
adults and about 4 babies. One of the adults actually hissed at me when I got
too close. Good to know they’re still willing to go to bat to protect their
little ones. She calmed right down again when I, obligingly, backed away.
The
second set, a little further down the shore, consisted again of two adults and
a handful of babies. These ones appeared to be a little younger than the first
set.
Adorable
as they were, however, it wasn’t the geese who had our undivided attention that
day. It was someone else.
As we
passed the second goose family, I noticed a little brown, fuzzy, body trotting
down the slope a few yards ahead. It was the muskrat! He jumped in the water
and paddled quickly off. I was a little disappointed that we’d missed him by
moments, but I understood his instinctual need to flee the strangers and head
for safety. It’s the most natural thing in Mother Nature’s world, right? Isn’t
it?
Well,
it used to be.
But it
turned out that all was not lost. A few more steps and I realized there were
two more muskrat sitting on the same slope munching something on the ground.
Since the first muskrat turned up in our pond a few years ago, they’ve
multiplied into quite the little community.
I
slowed down and moved as quietly as possible. My plan was only to get a good
snapshot. It’s not too often you get a chance to get a close up view of these
creatures. They usually prefer the water, of course. And, as the other little
fellow had just proven, even when they do venture up on earth, they tend to run
for it as soon as they see a human coming. I figured if I was lucky, I’d get a
decent shot, maybe even two, before they were gone. Sure enough, as soon as I
was within noticing distance, one of them dove into the water and vanished.
Interestingly,
though, the second one remained. I crept a bit closer. A bit closer still. A
shot. Another photo. Would he stay around long enough for another?
He wasn’t
going anywhere. He didn’t seem to even be thinking about going anywhere. He was
too busy nibbling plant life from the slope.
Well,
if he was going to stick around this long, I might as well turn on my video
camera!
He was
amazing for me! A perfect movie star! He dove into the water once, but he came
right back. I don’t know if he thought about running, but changed his mind, or
if he just felt like he was drying out too much and needed a splash. Either
way, in another moment he was back on land nibbling again.
Then,
much to my surprise, he started coming towards me. Closer. Closer. So close he was just inches from my toes. This was entirely of
his own choice. I was doing nothing to encourage him, but nor was I about to
leave. He nibbled peacefully along as if this was the most normal afternoon of
his life. One time, he even stood on his hind legs and gave me a lovely pose,
as if he knew he was on camera. And it was fascinating to see him so closely
and in such detail. He had soft brown fur that I would have liked to stroke
(but I didn’t), little gray feet with long, pointed toes and a long, worm-like
tail. In the water he waves it rapidly back and forth like a rudder.
Interestingly,
it was only when I turned my camera off and my phone made its customary loud
beep that the little guy suddenly jumped straight up into the air, then dove
into the pond and paddled rapidly off.I really, REALLY wanted to share the video with you, but the computer won't let me upload it. However, here's a nice photo of the little superstar.
I hope
he’s around our pond for a long time to come.
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