#canada goose honking sound

[abirddogmoment]

Waving goodbye to the snow geese as they head south for the winter

[cloevr]

[hear a honk outside] hey that sounded like a fucker.. [pulls my curtain back] [canada goose in the yard eating random shit out of the yard] sure is

[katyunderthebed]

My dinosaurs.. Tundra and Shoreline.

Tundra is bigger, fluffier and bites. She’s not mean but she’s excitable like a puppy so you might lose a finger if you’re not careful. She makes weird raspy honks and bellows like a high pitched crocodile.

Shoreline is smaller, narrower and has thinner feathers. He makes screechy squawks and hissing sounds. He’s probably less bitey and more likely to hiss at you and then leave because he’s too lazy to fight.

They’re both based on various dromeosaurs. Tundra’s based on a canada goose and Shoreline’s based on a ring billed gull.

[lokittenya]

Many Have Questioned 'Are Canadian Geese Protected?'

Short answer? Yes, geese are a protected species in Canada. Canada geese are protected under Canada's Migratory Birds Convention Act (MBCA). Canadian geese along with several other migratory birds are on the list of protected species in Canada. Though they are not an endangered species.

Canada Goose



With the scientific name Branta Canadensis, the Canada goose is often referred to as a Canadian geese. The birds have a brown speckled body with a black neck and white cheeks and under chin. And the geese are known for making loud noises.

The Canada geese is a large bird species common in southern prairies of Canada and northern United States of America. And are found here in equally large numbers.

Geese tend to let out a honking like sound. The birds are known to be aggressively protective. And has caused injuries in its quest to protect it's eggs from predators.

Did you know? A single Canada geese can have anywhere between 20,000 to 25,000 feathers. To keep them in top condition they are replaced through a process called moalting.

Canada goose is divided into 7 subspecies:

Atlantic Canada Geese

Interior Canada Geese

Giant Canada Geese

Moffitt's Canada Geese

Vancouver Canada Geese

Dusky Canada Geese

Lesser Canada Geese

Did you know? The giant Canada geese were thought to be extinct untill a small flock was found in Rochester, Minnesota in 1962.

Making differentiation between the different types of goose caused great confusion and conflict. The Lesser Canada Goose was believed to be a hybrid between Canada goose and Cackling goose. Hawaiian goose is also said to share the same ancestry as the Canada goose.

Canada geese range from 30-43 inches in length with a wing span of 50-73 inches. During late-June and through July Canada geese loose their flight feathers to moalting. They average as the largest of the 'true geese', I.e. belonging to Anser and Branta genus.

All seven species of the Canada geese vary in size with the Giant Canada Goose being the largest, weighing at about 8 kg and lesser Canada Goose being the smallest.

Did you know? An exceptionally large giant canada goose was found to weighed 10.9 kg and had a wingspan of 7ft 4in.This was the largest geese to ever be recorded in any present species of geese.

The natural predators of Canada geese are wolves, fox, coyotes, bears, eagles, ravens, gulls and wolverines.

Habitat



Canada geese are native to North America but have since distributed to a number of other places. The Great Lake region houses a large Canada geese population. The Canadageese are also present in large numbers better US eastern seaboard and Pacific coast. As this is part of their breeding ground.

Even in canada they were introduced to certain provinces like Quebec and Southern BC instead of being entirely indigenous like in southern Prairies and southern Ontario.

Canada geese was re introduced in the UK where the species has made itself quite comfortably. And the bird now spreads over half of UK. The Canada geese can be found all year round.

Migration



Canada geese is a migratory bird and move to southern United States and Northern Mexico during the winter period. Their choice of habitat includes wetlands, ponds, lakes, rivers, coastal areas.

The flying geese are easily recognized by their large V-shaped flocks as the birds migrate south in fall/winter and north in the spring.

Although, there are some parts such as Southern BC where the climate is temperate enough that the Canada geese need not migrate. These gives a referred to as resident geese.

Canada geese are usually found feeding on vegetation like grass, roots, leaves, seed, grain but they are also seen to consume insects, mollusks, crustaceans and small fish. As such Canada geese feeding on can be classified as omnivorous.

Did you know? Canada geese can travel over 1000 miles in a day when migrating.

Nesting and Breeding Habits



Canada geese mate for life. The birds start looking for mates between 2-3 years of age. When one of a pair dies the other finds another mate within the same breeding season make their nests and start laying eggs. If the birds destroy nests and eggs (by accident or if something else causes the destruction of the nests and eggs) Canada geese tend nest in the same season again.

Canada geese flocks tend to break up in pairs for the nesting period which usually lasts from mid-March to late-April. While the nesting site can vary it is usually around 150 feet of a water source.

Canada goose usually nests on islands, vegetation around shores, cattails or at the base of big and mature trees. Where they are adequately concealed. In urban areas they tend to nest in flower boxes, doorways or structures with rooftops. Preferring to have their nests on higher grounds with permits them better protection from predators.

The nests and eggs are guarded by both the male and female geese in equal measures. If the adult geese think that they are being threatened they will spread out their wings and hiss before attacking. The female can be found laying eggs around every 36 hours (1.5 days). Once she is done laying eggs the incubation period starts., which is about 28 days.

The female Canada geese can lay upto 2-12 eggs, the but the average clutch size is about 5 eggs. All the eggs hatchat the same time and are led away by the adults within 24 hours of hatching. And the young geese are protected by the adult goose.

Did you know? Goselings (goose ckicks) can learn to swim in a day. They sometimes form groups with other goselings. These groups are known as gang broods.

Canada goose population is quite large now. But in the early 1900s their numbers plummeted due to habitat loss and hunting. With the conservation efforts and regulationsput in place, the Canada goose population has reached up to 5 million in northern states alone. The global canada geese population is estimated to be over 7.1 million.



Why Hunt Canada Geese?



People used to hunt Canada geese for sport. They are considered to be highly intelligent and hence, equally challenging. They are also considered a delicacy. Some have even compared a geese breast to a good cut of beef.

As such Canada geese populations are hunted for their feathers and meat.

Thought there are others who find the birds to be tasteless. The unregulated hunting caused a steep decline in the Canada goose population. Thought they have since recovered a great deal.

Did you know? A Canada geese killed under a permit can be eaten but cannot be donated to another person.

Problems Caused by Canada Geese



Canada geese cam also cause a lot of problems. Their presence at the airports is a safety hazard. As they may impend take off and hinder in landings. As such, the airport staff performs regular checks to reduce aircraft related risks.

Nesting Canada geese defend their nests fiercely and an overly aggressive pair may cause injuries to pets and children.

Large flocks of Canada geese strip the areas of grass such as parks, pastures, golf courses, lawns and areas near ponds, lakes and other water bodies which leads to expensive landscape management for the owners of private property.

Many landowners have faced such problems and tried to employ various deterrent techniques to avoid the geese.

Excessive Canada goose droppings can be a valid concern in populated areas such as parks and golf courses well well people are present as well.

This has let to making the parks and often beaches unfit for use. Some parks even have boards that prohibit the feeding of geese.

While study has been conducted to determine the potential harm that goose droppings pose to human health there has not been any direct evidence to performed serious risk management.

The Canada geese diet can also lead to agriculture and resource damage as they consume grains and grass which causes harm to crops and pastures and may cause a degradation in the water quality as well.

The rapid increase in Canada geese population can also affect the already sensitive ecosystems and they may cause harm to other wildlife in their aggression. In recent decades the Canada geese have overcame the population objectives. Which has made it necessary to kill Canada geese to control the populations of geese.

Migratory Birds Convention Act



Are Canada geese protected under any act or can they be hunted? Is a common question people have. Often misunderstanding the birds to be an endangered species. Canada geese are protected but can be hunted mostly to control the now rapidly growing goose populations.

The Migratory Birds Convention Act emerged from International treaty between Canada and the United States. The treaty is known as the Migratory Birds Convention, signed in 1916. The Migratory Birds Convention provides protection and conserves the migratory birds populations and prohibits or permits the hunting of said birds under specified circumstances.

On the other hand, the act also acknowledges the damage caused by goose and provides the means necessary to deal with the problem. In such circumstances you can kill Canada geese but only as a last resort.

There are several migratory bird, along with the Canada geese that are considered to be 'game birds' and are eligible to be hunted but only during certain specified time and in specified areas.

The Act tasks the Federal government with establishing the hunting seasons. And Canada geese are a popular game bird among the migratory game bird hunters.

Hunting season has become a way to control the rapidly increasing Canada geese population. In Ohio, the Canada geese hunting season begins in November and lasts up to 2 months. In southern Ontario, the Canada geese season is from September 1 to December 16.

Due to the local laws it is illegal to hunt outside of the designated areas.

Permits



Canadian Wildlife Health cooperative has set the regulations for hunting seasons of Canada geese. The federal government allows for the hunting under specified conditions.

If someone were to hunt canada geese outside of the area where it may cause damage to private property or other wildlife one can contact the wildlife service with the information contact provides on the official wildlife service websites.

Though hunting during the hunting season or in hunting zones is not prohibited under the act. Goose are after all a popular game and not an endangered species.

To hunt Canada geese one must possess a single permit: a valid Migratory Game Bird Hunting Permit and a Canadian Wildlife Habitat Conservation Stamp on the permit. Though most provinces and territories have some other regulations and permits as well that provide protection to the wildlife.

Airport permits are also a thing under the Migratory Birds Convention Act to reduce aircraft related risks. The hunting permits allows one to hunt Canada geese under the Migratory birds act.

Hunting Districts



Different province have different amount of hunting Zones for the goose season.

Ontario permits a total of 4 geese hunting districts named Hudson-James Bay District, Northern District, Central District, Southern District.

Quebec has a total of 7 geese hunting districts named District A, District B, District C, District D, District E, District F and District G.

Alberta permits 2 geese hunting district names Zone No.1 and Zone No.2.

North Dakota has 3 geese hunting zones: Eastern zone, Western zone and the Missouri River zone.

British Columbia permits a total of 8 geese hunting zones that numbered as Provincial Management Units 1 through 8.

And so one and so forth.

To Conclude

Canadian geese are protected by the wildlife services which aims to protect all the migratory birds.

The geese populations have grown at an exponential rate. This growth is often attributed to the human landscaping practices which seem to favour the geese.

The birds nest, moalt and raised their young often heavily populated areas. The increasing rate of such disruption has caused a conflict between the people and the geese.

The Migratory Birds Convention Act recognises the damage wrought on by the birds and provides measures to to manage the problem. They provide tools such as permits that allows one to take necessary actions such as hunting the geese themselves.

The United States have declared the resident geese as 'overabundant'. The status of geese in Canada is not threatened. Hunting permits can be provided to people who wish to reduce the damages done by the large geese flocks.



All in all Canada geese are protected but also can be hunted with a valid permit.

[petnews2day]

March 31 – Brooklyn Eagle

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/ofpMv

March 31 – Brooklyn Eagle

Canada Goose. Photo: Heather Wolf Today Brooklyn Bird Watch features a close-up, portrait style photo of the Canada Goose (sometimes called the Canadian Goose) by Heather Wolf. Known for their V-shaped formation and loud familiar honking sound during migration flights, these large long-necked birds have a complex relationship history with humans. While they are admired, […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/ofpMv #BirdNews

[thebackyardbirder]

Two Canada Geese came up next to me and started honking very loudly. At that time I was giving the birds some bird seeds and the Geese looked to be hungry. Soon the two Geese started honking towards the other side of the water where there were more Geese honking back at them.

[apinklion01]

Trailing Along the Dark

Day Ten: Doppelganger

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34214308/chapters/85767340

<- Previous       Next ->

No warnings this chapter!  Also I don't know that much about coffee so if you think Dash would get something else that's more elaborate, let me know in the comments. Reblogs appreciated!

It was supposed to be a quick stop at Starbucks to grab a frappuccino and then go home. At least that’s what Dash had in mind. How was he supposed to know that a flock of some weird geese dragons would chase him down an alleyway?

“Are you guys supposed to be in Florida by now?” Dash jeered at one of the ghostly birds, which angrily honked in response.

He ducked under a few clotheslines as he did his best to outrun them. The geese went intangibly through the clothes, clearly not wanting to give up the chase.

‘Oh man, where’s Phantom when you need him? I’m pretty sure he’s not that busy fighting ghosts when it’s still broad daylight.’

Dash’s thoughts about the ghost hero were interrupted as he slipped on a puddle and slammed into some garbage cans. The stench wasn’t strong thankfully, but he knew that he didn’t stand a chance against the geese.

‘I’m totally a goner.’

Suddenly a familiar green beam of light struck near one of the geese. The remaining geese began honking in alarm, turning their heads to see who did it. Though still surrounded, Dash couldn’t help but give a hopeful smile at the sight.

A black and white blur whizzed by, firing some more green beams to the ghosts.

“Ha, take that! And that!” The voice called out.

Dash’s smile faltered. ‘Wait, that voice sounds way different from Phantom. And also younger. Their aim’s also sloppy. No way that could be him.’

The fake Phantom finally stopped in front of the last goose. “Go back to Canada and stop chasing people,” they said before firing another blast. Even though it missed, the ghost got the message and flew away. The fake Phantom beamed to themself as they floated to the ground.

“Who the hell are you?” Dash asked, finally getting the chance to stand up.

“Me?” The fake Phantom said, whipping their head around. “Oh, I’m umm… I’m Phantom!”

“No you’re not. Phantom, would’ve taken out those ghosts way sooner, and captured them in a thermos too.”

“Wait he does?” They muttered before glancing up quickly at Dash. “I mean, of course he does! He just.. doesn’t trust me to use it yet! I just started learning how to protect Amity Park, and he’s very serious about taking care of it. A thermos that keeps ghosts inside isn’t easy to buy or repair.”

The jock scratched the back of his head in thought. “Wait just started learning. That means your Phantom’s sidekick? Since when did he decide to get one?”

“Uhh, a while ago? He wants me to practice before he introduces me to the public! So you can’t say that you saw me at all otherwise I’d get into a huge amount of trouble.”

“Ohhh okay, that makes sense,” Dash said.

‘Maybe Phantom made her save me so she could get a bit of practice. That means Phantom must really trust me! That’s amazing!’ 

“Umm, by the way, do you know where Phantom might be right now? I gotta check in with him right now, but it’s my first time actually being in Amity Park.”

“Wait deadass? Where does he train you then? Also shouldn’t you have a phone or some shit to contact him?”

Phantom’s sidekick shuffled their feet. “Uhh, he trained me out of town, and I forgot to bring my phone...”

“Oh. Hmm, Phantom gets sighted around Parkson street at this hour. That might be your best bet. Also keep a better eye on your phone. If you lost it here, who knows what kind of crazy fan might do with it,” Dash advised them.

‘And those government goons too,’ He thought to himself. ‘The last time they tried to capture him with that huge million dollar reward on the line was a close call. I thought Phantom was a goner for sure. Who knows what they would’ve done to him...’

“Alright, thanks for the advice! I better go,” the sidekick said as they floated right off the ground.

“Wait, can I at least get your name and pronouns? I want to remember you when you do appear as Phantom’s sidekick!”

“Mmm…” Phantom’s sidekick tilted their head in thought. “I guess you’re free to call me… Spirit! Yeah, Spirit’s my name! And um, I go by… She/Her, yeah!”

“Oh cool! I’m Dash! Though you might’ve known that from Phantom since I’m practically one of his biggest fans!”

“Really? That’s cool!” Spirit gave a grin. “Remember, not a word about me to anyone at all. And just for extra safety, not a word to Phantom as well unless he asks about it, okay?”

“You got it,” Dash replied, giving a thumbs up.

Spirit flew off in a black and white blur before turning intangible.

‘She’s off to a rough start, but I bet Phantom will help her turn into an awesome ghost fighter like him,’ Dash thought. He gave a glance at his clothes, though to his dismay, they had a few dark smears and stains on them.

‘I just hope that no one over at Starbucks asks what’s happened to me…’

[oh-styles]

Something About a Beginning: Part II

First off, I want to thank each and every one of you for your immense patience. (More so than others, but I digress.) Writing on such topics when you yourself aren’t in the most healthiest mentality is a struggle alone, but we got here. 

Second off, if you haven’t read the first part, you can so here. These chapters implicate bouts of depression and talks of miscarriage, so read at your own will. 

I do want to note that I mention Robin in this story, and I was hesitant to include him because I felt it wasn’t appropriate, because he shouldn’t be used as entertainment purposes (i.e. in stories) but I mention him only with love and respect.

Again, thank you for your patience, and happy reading.

July 3, 2019 London, England

Harry lost his girl.

She vanished in the night – gone with the wind – and all that remained was a ghost of a woman, transparent and bleak. He hasn’t seen her smile since that night, coming close to a week now, and his gut retches at the thought he might never get his girl back.

She’s buried herself in the sheets; the window is opened a crack, and he spots an empty bottle of melatonin laying overturned on her bedside table. He stares intently at her body, watching as the sheets rise and fall to the pattern of her placid breathing, and he thinks for a moment that she’s finally found herself a better place. Not dead—not by any means. Whatever dream world she has found herself delved in, he knows she might have found a sliver of peace there, hopefully smiling.

“She’s sleeping, mum.” Harry says into his phone, taking a step back to gently close the bedroom door. “Rande and Cindy invited us to Muskoka but…” His words hung in the air, like the elephant in the room, but his mother knew all too well what was lingering on the precipice of her sons’ tongue.

But she’s too depressed.

But she can’t go a day without crying.

But I don’t think she has the energy to leave the house.

It’s been four days since the attack, and Harry hasn’t seen her take a step outside of their bedroom.

“Love, she’s wasting away in there. It might help her a little to get out, get some sun…”

“Mum, I can’t even get her to sit in the fucking garden.” He can hear his mother’s nettled sigh on the other end of the line, but how can anyone expect him to put her on a mother fucking airplane if she can’t even bother to walk the 30 meters to the fucking garden? “The sodding paps were outside the house last night.”

“They can’t—”

“I’m aware.” He begins to descend his way down the stairs, stopping to peer out from the front window – an old, worn out habit. “I think it’s best we get away for a bit. The story hasn’t died down… I think it’ll help—getting away. They won’t bother us there.”

Harry knew your answer before he even had the chance to ask; he knew he was wasting his time in even suggesting such a thing, but the guilt would eat away at him if he didn’t even try.

“Muskoka…Canada, remember? We went there last year.” He sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand over the sheets where a peek of your shoulder laid exposed. “It’ll be quiet. Nobody there to bug us. If you want to just hang out in the hotel room the whole time, I’d be fine with that. It’s just…”

I can’t stand to see you burrowed away another day.

“I’m really worried about you… I’m just trying to help.” He was powerless, and he knew it. He couldn’t take her by the arm and force her on a plane, but god forbid he try his damned hardest. “No paps, nobody. I promise. I wouldn’t take you there if it wasn’t safe.”

He feels a stir beneath him, and from underneath the covers, a small hand inches outward and lays upward, a silent plea for intimacy—a piece of familiarity he hasn’t touched in days. He reaches out and clasps her hand in his, and readjusts himself to lay beside her.

“You can think about it. I don’t need an answer this second, but give it a day or two, okay?”

He sees her nod, and her eyes blink open to meet his, only for a second, before they are closed once again for the remainder of the night.

*

July 6, 2019 Ontario, Canada

Muskoka came and went. Nothing advantageous to really capture your attention, though you kept your head nestled low in a book for most of your stay. You tossed a couple Stephen King novels into your bags without much thought, and by the time your trip was coming to an end, you had already completed one and started another.

A photo made its rounds online of you at dinner with Harry, Rande and Cindy, and even thinking back to that night, you couldn’t recount a time where you felt a pair of eyes boring at your table. You think it might be because you paid more attention to the drink menu than your friends, but you digressed. They only saw the back of your head, and not even the photographer mentioned you. You were also mistaken for Kaia on a couple occasions.

After Muskoka, you were back in London, and not much later Harry would be jetting off to Italy for Google Camp, and a few days after that, he was set to fly to Mexico for a video shoot. He was redundant to go, and even called Jeff to see if they could reschedule, but that would cause a delay for the next video they’d film only a week later. He asked if you wanted to join him, and you kindly declined. You were much aware of his past video sets, and how common it was to see photos and videos leaked online, and you were far from interested to be included.

You were much happier to find yourself under the watchful eyes of Anne Twist.

“I can meet you in Scotland if I’m feeling up to it.” You knew it was a scorching lie crawling right off your tongue, but if it meant he carried some hope with him, then you would feed him whatever white lies you could muster. Even Anne knew better than to believe you.

“I think Canada was good for you, love, but you need some rest, too. Can’t be travelling all over the bloody world, now, can you?”

It was a nice feeling to know she had your back.

In another life would a little green monster be envious of missing such a trip to Cancun, but the only desires you had were sitting in Anne’s garden being force fed a steady cup a tea and a plate of biscuits.

Anne didn’t pry; she knew well what you needed, but she would be keeping her sons promise on keeping you safe, and she knew there was no safer place for you to be.

It was August now, and the heat felt suffocating. You and Anne spent your mornings walking to the bakery her son once worked in, grabbing a quick breakfast before heading to the park. You would pick off pieces of your croissant and toss it at the squirrels, but you almost always scared them off. Anne told stories of when Harry was a child, and how he once tried to tell her Gemma was a drug dealer.

“She was only a child,” she hummed, laughing into her coffee. “But he was always a character to have around.”

“I feel like…between you and me, right?” You could hear in the distance the sound of a goose honking and a group of children wailing, running away. “I just…don’t want to upset him.”

Anne reached over and took your hand in hers. “Anything you say is always safe with me, love.”

“I’m mad he left me here.” There was a short beat, but you could feel your throat close, and that anger begin to well up in your chest. “This…this is also…”

“I know, love.” She scooted closer, squeezing your hand. “Everyone has their own ways of dealing with grief. Harry isn’t good at sitting around… Even when Robin passed, he didn’t like to sit. He needed to go do something.”

You remember, and yet you still recall him lying on his mother’s couch in tears. You don’t think he’s cried since the two of you left the hospital a couple weeks ago.

“He loves you, darling. He calls me every day to check in on you. Don’t think for a second he doesn’t care.”

Even with her words, you felt something was missing.

*

Harry was only in Scotland for a couple days before he was finally home, but it wouldn’t be long before he would be venturing off to Italy – again – for another work-related conquest. You weren’t sure why he was so content with country hopping every couple of weeks instead of resting at home with you, but you didn’t bother bludgeoning him with questions.

“After I’m through with Italy—I won’t even be there a day—I’ll be back home, but a couple weeks later, I have to go to LA for some meetings… I’d like you to come, if that’s okay.”

Again. There’s always something. It must be so fucking difficult to stay in one place for more than a couple weeks with your grieving girlfriend.

“Also…I was meaning to ask you. Ariana is in town in a few days… Wanted to know if you wanted to come with me and the guys… I think it’ll be fun.”

“Your child died a month ago and you want to go to a fucking Ariana Grande concert.” The words fell helplessly from you, but it was weeks of anguish and neglect that hit its final tier, and you were quite tired of hanging on. “Tell me….how does that make sense to you?”

“Excuse me?” For the first time that night, he looked at you. All before, he found excuses to shift his glances to anything but you, maybe in fear of reality finally hitting him in the face with what he’s been running from for weeks, but for the first time that night, he bared his eyes down at you, and his mouth fell open.

“I’m sorry—have I been hallucinating you just picking your shit up and leaving every chance you get?”

“I’ve had work—” He took to his feet, swiftly flinging his hand out to close the lid of his luggage.

“Any normal person—I swear, any normal person would stay home, and fucking grieve, except you, who wants to fucking fly everywhere and work, because that would require facing his fucking prob—”

“I have a job—I know it’s hard for you to relate to that, but I have commitments—”

“And what am I then? If not a commitment, then what, Harry?”

“You are a commitment—”

“Then where have you been? Why have I been staying with your mother? I know you invited me to go with you, but I shouldn’t have to. I’m fucking hurting, Harry! I don’t want to go to Cancun and Italy—I want to be here with you. Do you know how fucking hard it’s been dealing with this without you here?”

For once, he was silent, but he shifted on his feet.

“You haven’t cried. Not since the hospital. I can’t count how many times I’ve cried, and you sit around texting your band or going to video shoots… If you feel nothing—no grief or anything…if you didn’t even want the baby, just tell me. Make this easier on me, please.”

“How the fuck can you say that I didn’t want the baby? My heart is fucking hurt!”

“Then act like it!”

“You really think I can sit around every day and watch you fall apart? I have to be the strong one… If it can’t be you, then it has to be me, and I don’t like watching you hurt.”

“You know…you sometimes have a really shitty way showing people you care about them.”

You stood there, arms folded in resistance, and he couldn’t take his eyes from off the floor. He felt cornered, and he was defenseless with nothing else left to give. His bags still laid on the bed, clothes scattered over the sheets ready to be put up, and you knew this room was no place for you. Your purse was downstairs, and your phone in your pocket.

“I’m going to stay with Gemma tonight. I’ll have her pick me up. Please don’t follow me out.” 

*

She’s always been the quiet one.

The first time she met you, at a family gathering you were reluctant to attend despite the persistent reassurance from your other half, she knew from the moment she saw you that you were different from all the others. You held yourself different, much shorter, like you knew you could never become the center of attention.

You studied the room, holding onto Harry’s hand as he introduced you to his mother, and that’s when Gemma appeared from over her mother’s shoulder.

“About time I meet you,” she chuckled, reaching her hand out. “I’m Gemma.”

She watches you now from the edge of the driveway, sitting on the steps of the porch with only the light above you illuminating your surroundings. From behind you, she spotted the silhouette of her brother peeking through the curtains, keeping a close eye for just in case.

Your track record wasn’t a good one.

As she approaches, you perk your head up with a sigh of relief. For the first time, she was the Styles you nothing but needed.

“Come on, Magoo,” she chirps as she finally reaches you, lifting her hand out for you to take. “We can hit the McDonald’s drive-thru.”

Laura Nyro played over her car stereo, a melodious tune you recall hearing once before on a long drive in Cheshire. You shut your eyes, and the memory floods you like a storm, like a stampede parading across your chest, and you lean over to rest your head on the window.

Gemma reached her hand over to find yours, giving it three squeezes of solace.

I. Love. You.

The cut that was tucked away in your hairline was in its last stages of healing, and a scar would most certainly take its place. You always felt the erratic throbbing, like a little reminder that no matter how far you run, your problems will always be chasing you like the devil.

“Did I make a mistake?”

Gemma turned her attention from the road, lifting your hand up with hers, and planting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“No, Magoo. I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re dating a dumbass.” She heard a muted hum in response. “Nobody is perfect… Not even that shithead. I can see where he thought what he was doing was okay, because he was sacrificing his feelings for you, but… that’s just not how you do it.”

You could drink to that.

Gemma spotted the golden arches and took a left at the light. “I’m glad you texted me… Haven’t had a bloody girl’s night in ages. It sucks under the circumstances but…” She turned back to you with a wink. “I’ll take what I can get.”

On the journey back to her flat, you pleasantly sipped at your chocolate milkshake and tapped your feet to the music, and even sporadically hummed along to the few chords you knew. It really didn’t take much to please you.

Gemma was never gifted a sister as a child. Though, she did want one, and was thoroughly distraught when her mother brought home a brother all those years ago, she did grow accustomed and grew to love the curly haired boy who she would then share with the world. But the girl beside her, who slurped her drink and choked behind a laugh of a joke about a time traveler who walks into a bar, had burrowed herself deep within her heart, much like she does with any counterpart she meets.

It’s incredibly difficult not to meet this girl and not hold some sort of placement in her life. Her heart is massive, but the love she radiates is gracious and touches anyone who dares get too close.

And the love Gemma has for her is just as the same.

Michal was asleep when the two of you arrived; you knew your way around, and confidently walked to the spare room down the hall, last door on the right. Gemma trailed behind you, holding your milkshake as you flipped on the light, and kicked off your shoes.

Olivia was already sprawled out over the comforter.

“Could you stay with me, tonight?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, babe.” Gemma smirked, setting your drink down on the bedside table. “Have you ate?”

You shook your head, even trying to recall if you had mustered an appetite to have some breakfast, but even then you think you took a couple bites out of an apple and forgot about it.

“I’ll make you something—actually, Michal and I have spinach ravioli left over… Want me to heat some of that up for you?”

You graciously nodded. “You’re too good for me.”

“I just love you is all.”

The next morning, the spot beside you was visibly vacant, and from down the hall you could vaguely hear a low, sullen voice talking over the sound of the television. Gemma fired back in response, and from your feet, Olivia peeked her head from the covers, turning towards the disrupting noise.

“Let her sleep—she’s exhausted—”

“Just give me five bloody minutes!”

You knew any chance of sleep you wish you had was far gone.

“I’m up—just fucking talk!” You hollered into your pillow, your eyes still adjusting to the sunlight cascading into the room. You could guess it wasn’t any later than nine that morning, and before you had a moment to check, his unquestionable footsteps neared your door, and you heard a light tap. “I’m obviously awake.”

After you walked out the night before, he ignored your wishes and followed you downstairs where the shortest reaction he got from you was the front door slamming in his face.

“Can I talk?”

I don’t know, can you?

“You literally came here and woke me up from some incredible sleep, mind you, and you’re asking me if you can talk.” He was in a blind panic and darted his eyes around the room. “Well, talk.”

“I’m a fucking twat, I know this. It’s inexcusable what I did—what I put you through—it was selfish—I’m so fucking selfish—I can’t fucking deal with this kind of stuff, and I’m a bloody twat for leaving you because I can’t handle it. It’s cowar—I’m a coward! I can’t face shit—and I love you so much, and I left you… I’m so sorry, please believe me. I’m such a twat—"

“Shut up, please—you’re giving me a migraine.” You held up a single finger as you adjusted yourself in bed. “Look, I don’t even know how early it is, and you know how much I hate mornings.”

“I know, but…I didn’t want to wait until the afternoon to talk to you.”

“That’s fair.”

“It’s 10:30 by the way.”

“Did you practice that speech in your car, or did you just wing it?”

While you were in bed with Gemma, watching King of the Hill on her iPad, Harry resided to his office where he spent much of the evening hunched over his journal, scrawling out endless messages to you about how much of a wanker he is, and by the time the sun began to rise, he had his eyes in his hand and began waiting for an appropriate time to come and see you.

“I…thought a little bit about it, yeah.”

“You really hurt me, alright? It’s not something I can just forget because you said you were sorry. When I needed you the most, you weren’t there. What kind of partner is that?” He stood silent in his spot; his hands dug deep into his trousers. Suddenly, he was a little boy again getting scolded by his mother. “I had your mom, I had Gemma, but not you. The only person I needed. I get this wasn’t part of the plan, and we got our hearts broken, but that doesn’t give you the right to run off because you can’t handle seeing me upset.”

Olivia stretched her limbs out over the covers, purring against the sheets.

“I appreciate you coming, I really do. This isn’t something I can just forget and move on from. I want to work on this, but it’s going to take time… I still love you though.”

*

September 19, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Your shirt looks like amebae under a microscope.”

He stifled a grunt, looking down at his shirt with concentration, and every so subtly did you see him glance swiftly at the bathroom mirror. “I’m surprised you even know what ameba are.”

“Or it looks like those eye floaties you get, but…colorful, you know?”

“Will you stop bullying me?”

“Only when you tell me how much you paid for that shirt.”

For a second, and you saw it flash through his eyes, he considered telling you, but figured that was a fight for a different afternoon. His silence was all the answer you needed. You nodded and left the room.

He found himself eminently lucky that you even agreed to accompany him to Los Angeles, but it was under the one condition that he takes you to In-N-Out whenever you oh so politely asked. Though, after you harassed him over his attire that morning, he was undecided to change his mind.

He didn’t.

You did, however, apologize and say he looked like a sexy ameba, and he then locked you out of the car for five minutes.

To be fair, you only accepted his offer to travel with him because you missed your friends, and they were the one thing that remained untouched from the summer. You felt the emptiness being carried with you with every passing day, and all the books and websites said that was normal, but finding distractions and hobbies to pass the time was coming close to becoming a sport – way too laborious for you.

You even found yourself searching “Losing interest in things I used to like” and you were considerably shocked to discover the rabbit hole Google led you down.

You didn’t consider yourself depressed, not by any means. Sure, you were sad most of the day, you never really gained your appetite back, you stopped painting and watching King of the Hill and Breaking Bad, and if you didn’t spend the entire day sleeping, you would lay in bed with your eyes closed, praying you would eventually grow tired enough to slip away for a little while.

Harry even signed you both up for couple’s therapy.

“This is for people who cheated on each other and refuse to break up!”

But regardless of your inherent fussing, he refused to back down. Where the two of you stood mentally, this was your last chance at redemption, and he wasn’t letting you back out. The way he saw it, if you didn’t make an effort to try and fix what was broken, there was no hope for the relationship moving forward.

That was when you realized the outcome was more than just losing your baby.

After the first session, you made an appointment with your physician, who later prescribed not only you with anti-depressants, but Harry as well. Your world was spinning madly, in every which direction, but at least you had your boy holding on madly with you.

The first time you encountered a fan since the summer happened on that very first outing in Los Angeles when you and Harry were arriving for your lunch plans. (Not In-N-Out, but you let it go.) If it had been solely one girl, you trust that you could easily fight her off if given the opportunity. I mean, sure, you didn’t fight off that other girl, but she had the upper hand, or so you tell yourself.  

But, no, she was with a group, and you felt the urge to vomit.

“I’m going to throw up—” You propel yourself in the other direction, ready to sprint back to the parking lot, and thinking back on it now, you can’t even remember the last time you even sprinted. “Let me sit in the car—let’s get the food to go—I don’t care—”

This is why we should have fucking gone to In-N-Out.

“Pet—you can’t run forever, okay? I know it’s fucking scary, but you have to face this one day.” You remember the exact quote Harry was reciting from the therapist, just with less profanity. “I won’t let them do shit, alright?”

They did stop him, of course, and you took a few steps away so they could have their moment, but you made sure he was still an arm grab away incase—

“Hey,” You had disregarded the voice, opening a game on your phone – Numberzilla – before you registered someone had spoken to you. “I’m sorry to bother you…”

At first glance, you could easily discern she was unsure of herself. She likely had a rush of confidence, and now standing blankly in front of you, she has lost all certainty. From behind, you peered up to find Harry staring at the back of her head, already inching into his pocket for his keys.

“Oh,” you gulp, clutching your phone in your hands. “Hi…”

“I just…was just hoping that you were doing okay.”

Doing okay, because of—

Your heart thudded to a stop.

“You alright?” Harry was at your side, and the young girl took a step back.

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She gave a weak smile. “I just wish the best for you two.”

She was already walking off when you mustered up the words to thank her, but you were doubtful she heard you. Harry’s arm was in a tight grip around your backside, with his keys hung in his hand, ready to run.

The two of you cancelled your lunch plans and hit In-N-Out instead.

*

September 24, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Is it okay?”

It was a Tuesday; you had a clear agenda for the day, and it was a little after lunch that you found yourself aimlessly clicking through channels, with your boyfriend sitting down by your feet, flipping through the pages of your current read.

You had felt the undeniable ache since the night before, and you thought maybe if you just ignore it, it’ll go away, but it only lingered, taunting you with its insatiable lust.

The itch you don’t want to scratch.

Your heart was racing, your palms were sweaty, and it didn’t matter how tightly you squeezed your legs together, nothing could rid you of this.

“H,” You poked his leg with your toe. “Bear with me on this, okay?” He didn’t respond, but he carefully set your book back down on the coffee table. “Will you have sex with me real quick?”

“I…you want to?”

“Do you have condoms? Because if not, I can take care of this myself—”

“Yes, yes, I have them. I have—they’re upstairs.”

And there you were, minutes later, his cock was inside of you, and he slowly rolled his hips carefully into you, dipping his toes into the water. He physically cannot express how much this meant to him, and how long he hid this desire deep in his gut, because God forbid he be the one to bring it up. If he had to wank off in the bathroom in between commercial breaks until you decided you were ready to have sex again, he’d find a way to tolerate it.

“Is it okay?” He choked out in between breaths; only minutes in, and he was cradling dangerously on the edge.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s okay. It feels good.” You readjusted your hips, stretching your leg out to wrap around his. “Maybe a little faster?”

“I’ll cum in a second—” He shook his head, halting his movements when that tiny, little knot inched closer to unravelling. “Just give me a sec.”

“Babe—”

“Hold—” He reached his arm under the bend of your knee, lifting it up as he thrusted back into you. “Fuck—”

He was relentless; you stretched your hand down between your thighs, rubbing and kneading that small bundle of nerves as his cock hit deep within you with no sign of letting up.

It had been way too long.

“Harry—fuck—” It was deep, pulsating, and you lifted your hips up as your orgasm radiated throughout your every limb, tightening around his cock as he thrusted hard, giving you one last nudge of pleasure as his grip tightened around the sheets, fucking into you with a lasting, animalistic moan, cumming thick ropes into you.

You made him access the condom, triple checking there wasn’t a hole unbeknownst to either of you, and after a fourth overview, he politely asked you if he could throw away his used condom now.

You would be okay this time.

He ran a bath a little later, and you submerged your body deep within the bubbles, letting them rest at your jawline. You felt like you lost your virginity all over again.

“H?” You asked, rubbing the bubbles up your arm.

“Yes, pet?”

“Do you want to get married?”

The question caught him, and he cracked his eyes open with curiosity. “I want to, yeah. You know I do.”

The conversation had only been passed around once, when you were terribly drunk and crying over some sob film where the boyfriend dies before they have a chance to elope despite their parent’s protests. The film stuck with you for weeks, and you always wondered, if you knew you were with the one, why wait? Why wait for tragedy to strike?

“Let’s get married.”

He chuckled, wiggling his toes against yours. “You’re mental.”

“No, I’m serious. Why wait? Seriously? I love you, you love me, and we aren’t getting any younger.”

“Pet, you’re 24.”

“And only getting older!”

“So, you want to find some Little White Chapel in Vegas and get hitched?” He leaned up a little, a smirk stretching out on his face.

“I want a real wedding, of course, someday, but right now…let’s do it. Let’s go to Vegas or Miami or somewhere, and just do it.”

It took an hour, but he eventually agreed, and was on the phone with Jeff to arrange a flight and hotel. The next day, the two of you ran around downtown to every consignment shop in the city, looking for a white dress – not as hard as you thought it would be – a diamond ring – a little tough, but you found one for cheap – and a nice pair of heels in your size – a lot harder; you bought a size too big by accident.

And in 24 hours, you would be marrying your best friend.

*

Miami, FL September 26, 2019

“Shit…fuck, we’re actually doing this?” You stuffed a wad of tissue paper into the toe box of your heels – one size too big – and stood up to test them for a final time. “No going back?”

“Cold feet, pet?”

“No, I’m fucking—it’s humid in here.” You swing around to face him, fanning yourself off with a loose People magazine, and its then you see him standing smugly in his slacks, a proper grin etching itself across his face.

“Cold feet—the expression, pet…”

“Harry—fuck, I’m nervous. My shoes are too big, I feel a pimple forming on my chin, and I’m pretty sure the wire in my bra broke ten minutes ago because something is stabbing my tit.”

“Well, I think your tits look great.”

“You can thank that bombshell bra I bought years ago for that.” You stroll back over to the sofa and toss the magazine carelessly onto the coffee table. “Did you have them sign an MDMA?”

“NDA, and Jeff got that covered.” Harry combs back a piece of his hair, that one strand that always gives him trouble. “Hold onto this for me?” You watch as he removes his H ring, and strolls over to the sofa. “Put it in your bra—can’t lose much in there.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re my wife.” His fucking smug grin falls over him like a tidal wave, and you wish you could just slap it right off his face.

“No, I’m not.”  

“Give it a couple minutes.”

Your heart hurled itself up into your esophagus, the tremorous pounding radiating all throughout your head to your toes. Harry appeared quite relaxed as he staggered to the full-length mirror to adjust his collar, and from the reflection, he caught your watchful stare.

“Your mom is going to be pissed.” You think back to Anne, and all the good she’s done for you, and you are now repaying her by having her miss her son’s wedding. “We’ll need to plan the real thing soon.”

“We’ll tell her when we want to tell her, but for now,” he swung around on his heel to face you, “This is about you and me…and the rest of our lives.”

You make a mental note to thank Niall later.

You think back to those years ago, and how you almost bailed on Niall that night to stay home and watch The Young and the Restless with your roommate. You weren’t thrilled to get that phone call, but as long as Niall agreed to pay for a couple drinks, you found it in yourself to put on a pair of pants and enjoy a night out. 

And maybe if you had inclined to stay home, your entire life would be a completely different world right now. Maybe you’d be in somebody else’s kitchen helping them prepare dinner, or on some lavish vacation with a guy you only met a month ago, or maybe you’d be alone in your apartment, binging a new show to pass the time you only let flutter by.

But you were here now, standing at an alter that smelled roughly of cigarettes and mildew, wearing shoes that were too big on you, in a dress that probably saw more weddings than you ever will, holding the hands of the man you were prepared to love for the rest of your life.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore, not the harassing, not the attack, not the stalking. It didn’t matter what anybody threw at you anymore; you were hard as fucking stone, and not a single person was going to damage what the two of you were building.

“You may now kiss your bride.”

[nitewrighter]

Even better: Goose skin for Rei, complete with honks for sound effects, and attempts to mimic honks as additional voicelines

The skin comes in classic white and also a daring Canada Goose recolor so she can terrorize gold courses specifically.

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

Canada Goose

When I think of September and waterfowl, my first thoughts go to the Canada Goose (notice I did not say Canadian Goose which is actually an incorrect name of the bird – there are of course “Canadian Canada Geese”). Nevertheless, my thoughts go to the “American Canada Goose” which seems to be everywhere near water come early fall, and the sounds of them honking puts a little flutter in those Pennsylvanians who hunt. September 1 was the first day of the resident Goose season which runs through September 25th.

Eighty years ago, Canada Geese almost never spent the summer in Pennsylvania. W.E. Clyde Todd, the first curator in the Section of Birds at the Carnegie Museum, kept meticulous records of the comings and goings of many birds in Western Pennsylvania. He has the distinction of the longest tenure of any employee at the museum, having started as a field collector in 1898 and retired and became emeritus curator in 1944. Even after retiring, he continued to come to the museum almost daily until his death in 1969. Mr. Todd, who lived most of his life in Beaver, published the landmark book Birds of Western Pennsylvania in 1940. Several paragraphs in the chapter on the Canada Goose mention early arrivals of the species from the north where they spent the summer as well as late migration to the north where they bred after having spent the winter roaming Pennsylvania fields and waterways. He mentions in the account that the first breeding of American Canada Goose did not occur until 1937 when a few pinioned geese released a few years earlier were successful in breeding in the state.

Today the Canada Goose is almost TOO prevalent for many residents. County and state parks, farm ponds, golf courses, and lawns adjacent to the three rivers seem to be very littered with “fertilizer” which prevents people from running barefoot on the lawns. There are actually professional Geese Police who use Border Collies to chase the geese away from unwanted areas, especially those where lethal means cannot be used. Loud noises have also been used, but as soon as the noises cease or the Border Collies leave, the geese return to foul the lawns and make the water “foul” also. Goose droppings contribute to over fertilization of ponds and lakes causing algal blooms which can be harmful to native fish, invertebrates, and the natural ecosystems of our waterways

Hunting is the only guaranteed method of keeping the resident Canada Goose population in check, of course only in areas where hunting is safe and legal. Hunting can reduce the negative impacts of a species that was not historically a year-round resident. In areas where the practice is safe, legal, and well-regulated, hunting can help to restore ecosystems, reduce local nuisances, provide nutritious food, and get people outdoors! Although the nuisance goose season has liberal bag limits, populations of the birds continue to increase.

Goose recipes can be found on the web using a simple Google Search. There are those who love the taste of a well-prepared bird, and those who think the meat is unfit for human consumption. Make a friend with a goose hunter and you can decide yourself.

Biography of Mr. Todd: https://sora.unm.edu/sites/default/files/journals/auk/v087n04/p0635-p0649.pdf

Book review: https://sora.unm.edu/sites/default/files/journals/auk/v057n04/p0579-p0595.pdf

Canada Goose sounds: https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Canada_Goose/sounds

Stephen Rogers is Collection Manager in the Section of Birds at Carnegie Museum of Natural History. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

[gabakins-blessedandhighlyfavored]

🦜🦢🦩🕊🦚🦤🦜🦢🦩🕊🦚

Day 28. Today I researched the Canadian Goose found in Reseda Park; Reseda, CA. The big, black-necked Canada Goose with its signature white chinstrap mark is a familiar and widespread bird of fields and parks. Thousands of “honkers” migrate north and south each year, filling the sky with long V-formations. During summer, and increasingly at other times of year, Canada Geese are fairly easy to see, swimming in open water, resting near shore, or grazing on lawns or farm fields. They are often heard flying above, by day or night; if you study their honks you may notice the difference by sound when other species of geese or swans are flying. In a pattern biologists call “assortative mating,” birds of both sexes tend to choose mates of a similar size. The oldest known wild Canada Goose was a female, and at least 33 years, 3 months old when she was shot in Ontario in 2001.:( She had been banded in Ohio in 1969.

🦜🦢🦩🕊🦚🦤🦜🦢🦩🕊🦚

[hisbeautysurroundsus]

I try to never lets facts get in the way of a good story. All I can say is that the following account is based on elements of truth. A few days ago I was out for my usual early morning walk and saw a rough cut timber floating near the shoreline of Pleasant Hill City Lake in Missouri. The board was about 75 pounds due to water saturation, and was clearly hand cut lumber circa 1850. I took note of where the board was and brought my wife back later in the day. We fell in love with its possibilities and labored to bring it out of the water. As we were walking, we passed another old rough sawn timber on the lakeshore. My wife mentioned it could be a coat rack due to its dimensions and the old nails sticking out of it. It was lodged in the muddy bank and was in rough condition so we left it. The next morning I went for a walk around the lake to see if any other vintage lumber had floated in. I saw what looked like a log floating about 50 yards out in the lake. My curiosity was peaked, but it was too far out to collect in the icy cold water. I snapped the first picture above so if I were able to collect the log I could show where it came from. I even found a long limb and put it by the lakeside so that in the off chance the log got close enough, I could use it to pull the log in. As I continued my walk around the lake, I spooked a gaggle of Canadian Geese. It created a small ripple behind the log when they took flight. With a smirk, I considered how I might spook more geese and push the log to shore. Understanding that getting the log was not going to be practical, I continued my walk around the lake. My mind doing its usual morning dance, I wrote this whimsical poem while standing on a hillside on the far side of the lake:

An ancient log was floating in a lake,

I wanted it for my collection;

The surface of the lake was slick and cold,

In it I could see my reflection;

The log was far off, too deep to get,

With icy cold water I would be wet;

I patiently walked around the shore,

The Canada Goose I could not ignore;

He flapped his wings and let out a honk,

A screeching sound, a flap, a wonk;

The ripples he made became a wave,

The log it did meet;

I patiently waited for another honk,

Now the log was at my feet;

The moral of this tale I will now sell:

Enjoy nature and put your cares away,

Your work will still get done today.

Now here’s where the facts get less important. When I returned to the lake I saw the log had indeed moved a few feet from the shoreline, and right near the limb I had placed there in anticipation. Perhaps it was the Canada Goose? I cannot say with certainty it was not. I took my shoes off and stepped in the freezing water. I used the limb to pull it in close enough to pick up. The crazy thing, it was the old rough sawn timber my wife had wanted to make a coatrack from! Here’s the picture to prove it.

[lowkeyhockey]

accIdents (how we went from friends to this) - sidney crosby

Title: accidents (how we went from friends to this), part i

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Female Reader

Mentions: Taylor Crosby

Warnings: Pairing is not endgame, mentions of underaged kissing 

Word Count: 2.2k

  Summary: How many friendships start with a book? (In which someone is always way too hyper, someone kisses two boys because it's easier than talking, and someone leaves because he's genuinely too good to stay.) 

Writer’s Notes: This is Part I of a story that’s a part of a bigger verse titled Can I Go (Where You Go) featuring [Y/N], a not-very single mother, Lila, your very opinionated daughter, and Freddie Andersen - a man very happy to be dragged along for the ride. But in the beginning, there had been Sidney Crosby.

Each story in the verse can be read as a standalone. Thanks so much for reading, and please hmu if you have a prompt/request/critique!

------------------------------------------

A shriek pierced through the air with the volume and intensity of at least two or three feral wildcats, and you turn around with half a grin already formed on your lips, waiting to catch sight of her to complete it. And when you do, you drop to your knees on instinct, heedless of any grass stains that might show on your pretty floral dress - besides, grass and flowers go together, don't they?

 And you go with Taylor, would never say no to a hug from her, ignore the way your friends stand in a small huddle waiting for you to rejoin them because they're so used to this. Never mind that the elementary and middle school buildings were on the same campus, and that you run into Taylor maybe five times a day on a good day. 

Whenever you see Taylor, you hug her. That's it. One time, you'd pretended not to see her just to tease her, and she'd climbed onto a water fountain to leap onto your back. And that was only one of the ways she'd lost her baby teeth around you. 

 All things considered, it's really safer when you greet Taylor like a semi-normal human being, letting her leap into your outstretched arms and almost tumbling over backwards anyway just from the force of her enthusiasm, wrapping your arms tight around her and pressing a kiss against her silky blonde hair. She smells just a little like lavender, and you smile even wider at that, because you knew you hadn't just misplaced your favourite bottle of perfume. 

You suppose you should scold her for the thievery but by now, it's labeled in your head under ‘something that reading buddies just do’. Especially considering neither of you have actual sisters to steal or get things stolen from. 

 The two of you had met six months ago, when Tay's first grade teacher had marched her class over to your waiting class of sixth graders, and before either your or her teacher could divvy your two classes up for the reading buddy programme Taylor had simply collapsed into your lap, foot nudging the copy of Roald Dahl you had by you on the floor with an expression that said that she's going to practice her reading with you only if she has to. 

 She tells you later, eyes wide with earnestness, that she only liked you because you'd been sitting on a blue beanbag, and you're still grateful for the fact that blue's your favourite colour, too. 

 The programme lasted just three months, with the two of you meeting every other day to sit in the small, glasshouse reading nook attached to the library, but neither of you particularly cared about letting a teacher tell you that you didn't have to hang out. 

 You didn't even let your parents do it - Taylor was sleeping over at your house every other weekend just three weeks into the programme, and you had dinner at the Crosby's whenever you had basketball practice, because it always ended around the same time as Sid's hockey training did and it was always easier to feed two hungry student athletes at the same time than just one, when said student athletes have dinner so much later than most people. 

 Of course, Sid eats enough for at least three people, and you kinda hate how easily he seems to convert food into muscle mass. He wouldn't have let Tay bowl him over so easily - and you look up over Taylor's shoulder to see him grinning down at you like he's thinking the exact same thing, reaching out to tussle first Tay's hair, then yours. 

 Dumb Sid. Dumb, cute, athletic, nice Sid, who laughs like a honking goose and has never minded having to share his little sister with you because you didn't have any siblings of your own. You think you'd maybe hate him if he weren't so cute and athletic and nice. 

 Or maybe not - Taylor would probably never let you, was already unhooking one arm from around your neck to reach for the hand her big brother still has resting in your hair, as though the three of you could really walk home attached together like this. 

 "Don't you have training today?" you ask him, managing to stand up with your arms around a squirming seven year, freeing a hand to wave goodbye to your friends before they walk away. You know that  two of your friends - Sara and Anaaya - would probably have liked to stay and talk to him too, but you girls had a pact that Sidney Crosby was too big a potential sore point for your U-12 girls' basketball team, and that meant that no one was allowed to date him. 

 Not that you'd want to, even though he's dumb and cute and athletic and nice. 

 He's been pretty grumpy lately and you're pretty sure you know why, but if he's not going to bring it up you won't either. Especially not with Taylor now on the ground between the two of you, swinging both of your arms as she looks around for a new way to make mischief on your way home. 

 You'd have thought that Tay would have ran out of new ways by now. But you also think that Taylor would never run out of new ways to make mischief, wherever she might be.

 Sid lets out a small grunt and you grin as you used your linked hands to nudge Taylor, which had a (totally expected) domino effect of her nudging (punching, really) Sid's side, as high as she could reach and as hard as she could do it. 

 You burst out laughing instead of scolding  her for trying to push her brother off the sidewalk and onto the street - what a way for the great Sidney Crosby to go - and he gives you the admonishing look he really should be giving Taylor instead. Your puppy dog eyes are almost as good as hers, though, and he's shaking his head a moment later and starting down your normal route home again without taking any sort of vengeance. 

 "Nah, I think they're making me play with Dartmouth again," he says, sounding just a little sulky about it, and you wince in commiseration as though you understand even though you don't, not really. 

 You've only ever played for your school, basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. You used to do a little figure skating, a little hockey in mites, because didn't everyone? But you'd never been like him. No one expected you to be amazing, not at sports, and Sid's only fourteen and already dealing with the whole country calling him the next something. 

 The next great hero, or the next great villain - he's way more than good enough to play with the Bearcats for real and everyone knows it, and that's why they hate him. They won't let him play even though he's just a little bit too young, and even though he's a lot too good for his actual age group, and even though the players and parents in the national midget 'AAA' league shout and boo and hit him so hard he barely wears any of his sweaters or team shirts outside of a game anymore. 

 The assholes have made Taylor cry, at some games, watching what they do to her big brother. They've made you cry, too, but you don't like talking about that.

 You let go of Taylor's hand to cover her ears instead, keeping up your pace so she doesn't protest too much, telling him with an expression more serious than you knew you could manage, "those dumb jerks don't know what they're missing out on." 

 (But I do, I will, if you go, you want to add, but you don't like talking about that either.) 

 He gives you a grin, though, probably to make up for your seriousness, probably because Taylor's trying to squirm extra hard now and neither of you wanted to upset her. "It's whatever, you know? Winning the Air Canada Cup's going to be pretty okay too." 

 And you laugh, dropping your hands from Taylor's ears to push him again, this time doing it directly. His t-shirt's soft against the palm of your hand, and you kinda want to curl your fingers into it instead. 

 "Watching you win it's going to be pretty okay, if my mom lets me go," you agree, as though you and Taylor didn't already have outfits and facepaintings planned. Taylor's "87" painting on her cheeks are going to have hearts in the holes of the '8', and your "Croz" painting's going to be done in Tay's best handwriting. 

 You wouldn't let Taylor cry listening to and watching those assholes alone. And besides, god, it really was beautiful to watch Sid play.

 Sometimes he lets you practice shooting with him in his basement. He doesn't make you stand in front of the goal, because padding or no it still hurts when the pucks hit you, but he lets you choose the music as you guys race to get pucks in the net - because he's older, because he's Sidney Crosby, he has to make ten shots before you make five, and usually he wins anyway.

 But this time he and Taylor drop you off at the mailbox in front of your house. When it's just you and Taylor you usually walk to her house first, then go back to yours, and you can walk alone when Tay has her big brother to walk with because it's a little out of the Crosbys' way but they never make you do that.

 So you kneel down again, let Tay wrap her arms around your neck again, but you stand before Sid could ruffle your hair in goodbye - leaning in, not even having to stand on tiptoe, to kiss his cheek instead. "They're so dumb, but we're not, so keep playing for us, eh?" 

 He looks a little like a prince then, thoughtful and distant even with a faint blush traced across his cheeks, eyes that gorgeous shade of hazel and hair dark and lightly tussled by the wind, and you think that this is how Sara and Anaaya might see him. He's here but unavailable. Here but so different from you, even though he's just three years older than you, so much more mature than the other fourteen year old boys in his class. 

 You should know. Mike Wallace tried to shove his tongue down your throat that one time, when you admitted to him that you wouldn't mind kissing him, and all Sid's doing to you right now is just stare. 

 You're blushing yourself before you even know it, reach a little blindly to ruffle Tay's hair the way Sid always does, calling out a goodbye to them before Sid could say anything else.

 *** 

 You ask Sid to go to the Winter Formal with you, because Mike Wallace asked you and you refuse to make yourself do that again, but he has extra practice and you spend the evening with Sara and Annika instead. 

 Sara's in a kinda hippie phase where she pretends she can cast magic, pretends that there's magic in the night and that she's feeding off it, and Annika pretends she's not desperately in love with Sara. 

 You kiss Mike Wallace again and it's not bad, this time, even though it feels like pretending, even though he told his friends after the last time you guys kissed that twelve year old girls kiss way better than eleven year old girls, like it's bad that you’d skipped a grade. Idiot. Not too bad a kisser, though. 

 When you get home, Sid's there in a game day suit even though he didn't have a game that day, you know he didn't, you'd have gone to the game instead if he did. 

 He's a really bad dancer, but he's an okay kisser, and he lets you choose the music again even though you're in your basement now and not his. 

 When he finds out you'd kissed Mike Wallace already that night, he makes a sound like he's going to throw up, and you punch him as hard as Taylor would have punched him, and burst out laughing right as he starts letting out those stupid honk-laughs of his. 

 *** 

 "I trust you, y'know. I would leave Taylor if I didn't know I'd be leaving her with you." 

 And you do know, and you trust him too, but he's still going all the way over to America and he's stronger than you still - you can't lift up Taylor and threaten to throw her into the bushes on your way home from school the way he can. 

 But you suppose that if he's going to Shattuck-Saint Mary's, the way you knew he would, his way home from school's going to be looking really different anyway. 

 "Don't tell her that," you say instead, with an eyeroll that somehow makes the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes more likely to fall instead of less. "I don't want her to hate me too," you say, and it's a little mean, but he winces and you know it's a direct hit. 

 And Sid always appreciates accuracy, doesn't he?

  "I'll miss you too," he tells you, instead of rising to the bait, and you let him pull you into burying your face against his shoulder before the tears could fall. If he questions whatever wet spots you leave behind on his t-shirt you'd tell him that his permanent hockey player-stink made your nose run

 but he doesn't ask

so you don't say it. 

 An "I miss you too"s not the worst thing to end a goodbye on, you think later, even if you never told him that you'd miss him. He's dumb, but you're not surprised that he figured it out. 

[biamondpickaxe]

so I'm currently on the verge of tears. i just heard a goose fly past my house, honking frantically. it was all by itself and it sounded scared so clearly it had been separated from the rest of the flock. and I'm just. so worried about this goose. is it okay? will it make it back to Canada or wherever geese are from? I'm sad. like genuinely sad about this goose. this lonely goose flying in the pitch black. i hope it'll be okay. :(

[bird-notes]

Looking for Snow Geese

I thought I heard some Sow Geese last evening, the distinctive sounds of their distant honking as they migrate through in the spring. It was very faint so it may well have been some Canada Geese who are here year-round.

[photo of a Snow Goose by Ray Hennessy, Unsplash.com]

I love seeing the Snow Geese in spring. I grew up in the Alberta prairies and one of the big moments of spring, which is such a welcome season after the long and bitterly cold winters, is the sight of long vee's of Snow Geese heading north. They breed in the Canadian arctic so they are seen only as they migrate through the region.

But what a migration they have! I used to drive out to Beaverhill Lake, a huge prairie lake east of Edmonton, Alberta. It was a shallow lake surrounded by prairie grasslands recently flooded by snow melt and a true paradise for birdwatchers.

It was also a great place to see massive flocks of ducks, shorebirds and Snow Geese. I remember clearly the many thousands of Snow Geese covering the fields, feeding on old vegetation and left-over grain after a hard night of flying.

Every so often the flocks would suddenly explode upwards into the air, startled by a passing Marsh Hawk or other raptor, the whooshing sounds of their wingbeats almost as loud as thunder. They would then wheel around the sky, calling loudly, their honking audible from many kilometres away.

[photo by Ray Hennessy, Unsplash.com]

These massive flocks of geese would pass overhead and for a few moments the sky itself was a kaleidoscope of fluid black and white colour as the flock flowed around in large circles until descending back to the the fields to resume feeding.

What is truly sad is that the government agricultural policy in Alberta changed about 25 years ago to allow the local farmers to damn the three small streams in the region around Beaverhill Lake in order to provide watering holes for their cattle. The result was that water was prevented from flowing into the lake and over the course of a decade, this beautiful shallow prairie lake slowly dried up. What remains is a grassland that the farmers have since divided with barb-wire fencing and reduced to little more cattle pastures.

You can still see flocks of Snow Geese in central Alberta in the spring but they are smaller and harder to find because they no longer congregate at Beaverhill Lake as they once did. But the memories of those days with the Snow Geese will stay with me forever.

[thebackyardbirder]

Two noisy Canada Geese were having a picnic eating bird seeds on a park bench. I was placing small handfuls of bird seeds on the bench and the Canada Geese immediately went to eat the seeds. The Geese were letting other nearby birds know with their loud honking sounds that the bird seeds were only the two Geeses and they were protecting it, also they could have been asking me for more food.