Walk in the Park

Mother has been after me to go for an early morning walk with her over to the V.A. Hospital, adjacent to her retirement center. So on Sunday morning, I was there bright and early for our walk. These are pictures of her with her little feathered friends who seem to recognize her and run for her as soon as they see her blue jacket.

Here they are gathered, little beggars all. Mother is watcher "her" egret, who has just taken bread from her and is slurping it in the pond so he can eat it. See the dark duck to the right of her? It is part Muskovy and part Peking duck. She hates it--it pokes at the adolescent ducks and tries to take the bread away from them. Mother becomes filled with righteous indignation, pushing it away from the others with her foot. Ever the protector of babies...

This picture tickles my funnybone because of the way these ducklings are looking up at Mother, waiting to be given bread goodies. You see, Mother still thinks of herself as a "city slicker" and has always been fearful of barnyard animals. For years, she used to fuss about our chickens and ducks, who scared her if they made unpredictable sounds or movements. Of course, to her, almost everything they did made her nervous, and more than once she'd come flying in from hanging clothes in the backyard. In a panic she'd shout out to whomever might hear, "Get these birds out of the yard so I can hang the clothes!" She was just intimidated by the rooster or ducks, and didn't know how to defend herself from them. We'd go shoo them away and Mother would be just fine. Now she's downright maternal to this brood. I love the chemistry between MOther and these little guys.

Mother has a walking partner named Ken. He is stopping here to respond to these screeching, incensed geese. For some reason, they scream at him every morning. He could walk over on the other sidewalk that runs parallel to this one. They don't bother anyone on that sidewalk. But he seems to like to say hello to them. I think they recognize him, and the air becomes blue with goose epithets.

Ken grew up on a farm and has no difficulty puting a headlock on the goose as he reaches for Ken's ankle. Don't worry--he's not wringing the goose's neck. He's just restraining him. As soon as the goose stopped flapping his wings and trying to bite Ken, he let him loose and walked on his way. The geese fluttered after him, like teenage boys who were whooped in a fight but don't want to appear defeated. Ken continued on his way without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

So Mother and I meandered through the V.A. hospital's grounds for a little longer so she could show me the goose and duck couple, the scenic fountain, and the wood duck gang. We ran the Canada goose gauntlet--goose swearing on all sides--and made our way back to the Villa. It was a delightful early morning walk. I understand now, why Mother loves to go walking every day there with Ken.