March 8 Outdoor Column

AT WOODS EDGE

'Lost in translation'

By Brad Stefanoni | SPECIAL TO THE MORNING SUN

One evening this past week, the Woods Edge Boys and I enjoyed a "boys only" supper while Mrs. Woods Edge was out instructing her Zumba fitness class. Supper-time conversation included a debate on which Star Wars movie is the best and a lecture from Dad on why eating a single green pea does not exactly meet minimum daily requirements for vegetables.

Suddenly, we heard the raucous honking of Canada geese as they glided in for a landing on the Woods Edge wetland. Younger Son inquisitively asked, "Daddy, why do the geese talk so much when they land on our wetland?"

Over the past month or so, anywhere from two to a dozen Canada geese have been visiting our little wetland each day and night. Sometimes they stay the day and leave at night. Sometimes they arrive in the afternoon and have "sleepovers," as the boys like to call it.

Being the Tall Tale Teller that I am, I seized the opportunity for a teachable moment and disguised a simple lesson about communication in a yarn about goose talk.

"Well, boys, when the geese come in for a landing what they are really saying is, 'Help, I can't stop, I'm flying too fast now get out of the way before I run you over,'" I said without so much as a upward glance from my dinner plate.

They both immediately peered out the window and listened as the geese made their final approach and landed in a chorus of goose babble. I could not hold back a grin as I imagined the gears turning in the boys' minds as they pondered the validity of that.

I knew the had taken the bait when Older Son said, "Yeah, those other geese did swim out of the way right before the other ones landed."

Now it was game on for the storyteller.

"And boys, when the geese walk up on the bank to eat the corn you throw out for them, that murmur sound you hear them make is actually them burping," I instructed, "just like when you eat too much too fast."

Younger Son quickly piped up, "But they don't say 'excuse me' when they burp like we do."

Older Son then queried, "Daddy, what are the geese saying when one tries to get on another one's back out in the water?"

Oops, a backfire! This line of questioning teetered dangerously close to the edge of the Canyon of The Birds and The Bees!

Luckily, a squabble broke out amongst the dozen geese just then and they chased each other around the water clucking noisily with outstretched necks and wings. This caused both boys to drop their silverware and run to the back door for a ringside seat.

"What are they saying now, Daddy?" shouted Younger Son.

"Well, you see boys, geese have recess just like you do at school and now they are playing a game of Dodge Goose, kind of like when you play Dodge Ball. The only difference is that they bite each other on the rear-ends instead of throwing a ball at each other."

"That tall goose is the P.E. teacher just like Mr. Mahnken at your school at Lakeside," I stated, finishing off what I thought was quite a masterpiece of a tall tale.

As we finished supper that evening, the boys and I discussed how animals communicate with each other just like people do. Their communication may sound and look different from ours but, nonetheless, they must communicate in order to survive in their ecosystem.

As the boys carried their empty plates to the dishwasher, Older Son commanded to his younger brother, "Come on, Jack, Daddy is done making up goofy stories about the geese, let's go take our bath."