On the Wild Side

Right now, I’m jealous of every kid under the age of thirteen.

Why am I jealous of them, you ask? Because they get to spend the entire summer just PLAYING.

Think about it. When was the last time you had three months off, just to while away the hours, with no responsibilities except to come inside the house for lunch and suppertime (where the food is already there, prepared for you; you don’t need to do a thing except eat), and just have FUN?

I think the last time I had that experience was probably when I was about twelve years old. Once thirteen hit, I was an awkward, nerdy teenager hooked on soap operas and longing for some boy to give me the time of day. Playing outside in the summer sun no longer held so much appeal for me.

But before the age of thirteen, I was a summertime wild child, free to do whatever I wanted to do, whenever I wanted to do it (within limits, of course). Enya has this song called “Wild Child,” and whenever I hear it, I am instantly transported back to that free feeling of being eight years old, running through sprinklers, riding my bike all over our little town, my messy hair blowing wildly in the breeze, and picking little green apples off our neighbor’s apple tree (mean old Mrs. Schroeder HATED that, and we were scared of her—but that made it all the more appealing to us, to try to sneak the sour yet succulent fresh apples from that little old tree without her catching us).

It was a wild time, and a happy time.

But adulthood has its happy times, too. Even though there are the adult responsibilities and worries of working, paying the bills, and doing household chores…there are also the extra freedoms that come from being an adult. Like being able to eat a cookie whenever you want and not have to ask your Mom or Dad if you can have one. Or deciding whenever you want to get together with your friends, without having to ask permission first. Or being able to run stark-naked through your house without anyone scolding you. (Not that I ever do that, mind you! Heh heh heh heh…) Or how about being able to watch whatever t.v. show or movie you want to watch, any time? Hell, you can even watch movies with swearing and nudity now. Hell, you can even swear now without anyone yelling at you—and dammit, that’s awesome!

And you can drink beer. Mmmmm….beer…….

But I think the absolute best part about being an adult is that you have more experience with life, so you can stop and really savor a moment—any moment—and you can really understand how beautiful and sweet that life can be. Sure, a child can appreciate moments, too—but not in the same way an adult can. Children don’t have that perspective that adults generally have, the perspective that says, “This moment will not happen again, so let me just really take it in and remember it for all of my life.”

And that’s what I did today. After leaving work at noon (yay for summer hours!), I was walking across the Lake Street bridge, and the song “Chicago (My Kind of Town)” came up randomly on my MP-3 player. I paused for a moment and looked down at the river beneath me. There were tourist boats and river taxis and kayakers chuggin’ on down the river, and the sun was glistening on the water’s edge in a beautiful, shimmery sparkle…and I nearly shed a tear as I heard the words:

And each time I leave, Chicago is
Tugging my sleeve…

In that moment, I could never picture myself being anywhere else in the world. I felt profoundly grateful for this city, for this day, and for this moment.

I Feel Cheated!

This was me on Monday night, with Gertrude the Goose. (Photograph, courtesy of Jonathan.)



Tonight, I was talking to Jonathan, and we both realize that it had been a little while since we had checked on Gertrude…so after work, I headed over to her nesting area by the Chicago River.

And lo and behold…she was gone! And so were her eggs. And so was Stanley. All that was left was a pile of feathers and dirt and probably poop and egg fragments (It was hard to tell what was all in that pile—there were too many feathers strewn about).

I looked up and down the river forlornly, wishing that I’d been there to see the babies hatch. (At least I hope they hatched, and someone didn’t just mess with the nest.)

I have a hunch that it all worked out okay…especially when Iwanski confirmed after a quick internet search that goslings are mobile and can swim within a day of being hatched. (How ‘bout that?!)

Still, I feel cheated that I didn’t get to see Pippin and Dumplin’ and Pyrtle, swimming down the river with their proud Mom and Pops.

I expected goslings. I need to see goslings.

Thank God for Google images. (Aren’t they just the cutest?)



This weekend, Iwanski and I are going to take a long stroll on the riverwalk and see if we can see the real thing. There are not too many things cuter than little goslings swimming in a line behind their mama goose.

*Gosling photo credit: www.new-jersey-birds.com.

They Have Names

Today, my friend Jonathan saw our neighborhood geese for the first time. He called me at work to tell me that someone had put some oyster crackers near the nest for the Mama Goose. So apparently I’m not the only one who likes our geese!

Jonathan and I have decided to name them Gertrude and Stanley. I have also decided that when their goslings are hatched, one of them has to be named Pippin. (I just like the name Pippin for a goose.)

Jonathan and I are also starting to worry about how Gertrude and Stanley will be able to get their babies down from that nest up in the planter. Somehow, they must know what they’re doing, though, right?

I can’t wait to see Pippin and the other little ones! (I told Jonathan he could name the rest of them.)

I know you all will be waiting with bated breath…so I’ll be sure to keep you posted!

Mother Nature Surprises Us

There are signs of spring popping up everywhere here in Chi-town.

Last Sunday, Iwanski and I started out on our typical long weekend walk and were meandering across the Dearborn Street bridge. We were gazing down at the lovely Chicago River, sparkling in the sun, when suddenly I noticed that there was a goose sitting in a planter on the riverwalk, with another goose standing nearby.

“Do you think she laid her eggs in that planter?” I asked Iwanski.

“I don’t know,” he replied. “That would not be the best place for a nest.” (It is the riverwalk, after all—people walk down there often—and restaurants sometimes set up shop there during the spring and summer.)

It was hard to tell. Maybe the goose was just resting there momentarily.

This past Wednesday night, the temperature was a beautiful (and unseasonably warm) 75 degrees, and I said to Iwanski, “Let’s go take a walk and see if the goose is still there.”

So we walked over to the bridge and looked down on the riverwalk…and sure enough, there she was! Sitting there in that same planter—obviously sitting atop her eggs—with her mate swimming nearby. We were both surprised that they were still there.

We watched as a few people walked by her nest, and her neck swung out toward them as she let out a loud “hiss!” (It startled the people, who hadn’t even noticed that she was there.) But her mate barely moved—even though I could tell he was watching closely. I thought that was pretty interesting, and Iwanski speculated that perhaps she was defending her eggs from potential predators up there, while her mate was defending them against a water attack. Who knows? Perhaps her mate just didn’t take the people seriously.

The next day, Iwanski came by with his camera and took this picture of them.



We’ve stopped by and visited “our geese” a few times since then—and they are always in the same spot—although sometimes the male is away for a brief period of time—presumably looking for food.

“I wonder how long before her eggs hatch?” I asked.

“I don’t know—we’ll have to find out,” Iwanski said.

When we came home, we found out our answer, along with some more interesting facts about Canadian geese (from allaboutbirds.org and geesepeace.org) For example:

--The gestation period for Canadian geese is 28-30 days. (I can’t wait to see those adorable little goslings!)

--They tend to nest on the ground, usually on a muskrat mound or other slightly elevated site, near water. They prefer a spot from which they can have a fairly unobstructed view in many directions.

--When egg laying begins the "Father" goose will stand sentinel watch nearby, but not so close as to give away the location of nest to a predator. (So that may explain why he didn’t react too much to the people—potential predators—passing by.)

--Geese mate for life and will stay together during all seasons.

--Geese will find a new mate if their mate dies or is killed.

--Geese return to the general area of their birth each year to mate and nest. Sometimes to the exact site, sometimes to a nearby pond or other body of water. (So we might see their “kids” there next year!)

I, for one, was fascinated to learn all of these things about our new neighborhood friends…and in a few weeks, I hope to see their little ones peeking out of the nest.

I love springtime…and even though I love living in the city, with its tall, impressive buildings and trains and museums and taxicabs, I’m also very grateful that there is still plenty of beautiful nature surrounding us.