Good God Goslings!

The lake by my house -- the unique brackish urban estuary of Lake Merritt -- is presently gosling-rich.

There are three families of two adults with goslings in the number of 5, 9 (the eldest clan, almost showing adult feather color in their tails), and the youngest clan-- 19. 19-uplets. Today the 19 formed the shape of the shadow of an elegant old lantern-style streetlight that is at the southern edge of the lake. It was very hot. They were squished so compactly into the shape of the shadow that if the sun had gone behind a cloud (yeah, I know, California-- what cloud?!) there would have been an Installation of Streetlight-Shaped Pile of Goslings there on the beach.

I stood there staring trying to wrap my brain around this cuteness like a mushu pancake around a pile of filling when someone thought it was a good idea to run to the lake to drink a little brackish afternoon tea. The entire flock of 19 flapped its useless sets of wings and ran after the first thirsty one and then the installation was destroyed, and everyone was standing in the water a little stunned to be in the sun again. The parent geese didn't say a WORD. They were tired. They were hot. They walked aimlessly around at some several yards distance, watching me. If the kids wanted to run in a panic into the lake, that was fine with them. If I wanted to chase them in, so much the better.

Now, for some gosling research. I want to know how long they are little flightless balls of grey cuteness.

Here is where my stalking will begin: Coalition to Prevent the Destruction of Canada Geese

Ah, how the fall migration of geese will hurt this year...