On this sunny Tuesday
February March morning, Mother Goose, AKA Rosemary, was sitting atop her nest. Which is good, because you have one job, Rosie.
We parked halfway down Rosemary’s median strip; other cars had already filled in. But where was Big Daddy?
Papa Goose – let’s call him Joseph – was the whole way over by the garage, pretty far from the nest. For sure, more than honking distance. I postulate that Joseph was giving Rosie some space. Because he’s been through this before with her, he knows the only right answer when Mama is on the nest is, “Yes, dear. Absolutely. Whatever you say.” He okeydokes her, then slowly backs away.
I’ve been pregnant three times, and while I am sure it doesn’t quite equate to sitting on a nest full of eggs, I don’t blame Rosie for becoming snappish. Do her feet get pins and needles? Or cramps? Do her hips hurt? (Do geese even have hips?) I’d be grouchy, too, if all I could do was just sit there. BORING. All that waiting and sitting and waiting and sitting and nothing is happening, but her instincts dictate that she cannot ever leave, because she has to protect those eggs from the big loud machines that come and go and also from the mammals that hurry by.
So, I’m giving Joseph the benefit of the doubt. He knows when his woman needs her space. He’ll check in shortly, once they’ve both cooled off a bit, to see if she wants anything – some ginger ale, maybe, or perhaps a cup of tea.
Joseph has one job, too.
Friends of the GNN, I will not be visiting our avian friends between March 7 and 17. Reports will resume the week of March 18. If any of you have occasion to take Metro from Shady Grove, do plan on parking in the front lot outside the larger (“new”) garage and report back!