During the six weeks I’ve been walking the Nisqually Refuge I’ve caught glimpses of a large ghost-like bird mixed in with a flock of Canadian Geese.
Friday I finally got some decent shots of it. In fact, I was greeted at the beginning of the trail by proof that there was, in fact, a white goose mixed in with the flock:
When I mentioned the sighting to a fellow refuge visitor, I learned the legend of a domestic goose that had flown the coop years ago to join a passing band of migratory Canadian geese.
Some would argue that it was a goosish thing to do. Why would anyone turn down a steady meal for such a vagabondish life? After all, Thanksgiving was just around the corner, and who would want to miss such a joyous holiday? There was even the possibility of becoming the well-known Christmas goose, famous since Dickensian time.
After many years, such foolishness has been all but forgotten, though, and visitors to the refuge hold the goose in high regard, watching for its return each year, telling anyone who will listen the story of the goose who wouldn’t. It has become something more than mere goose, a legend in its own time:
I’ll readily admit I’m one of those stay-at-homes who never willingly left the nest, but even I find myself admiring this goose who wouldn’t live by man’s rules and insists on living its life free as the winds carrying it North and South. Someday I’ll be as free.