Thinking turns out to be a problem: I get distracted and don't always pay attention to where I'm going. I'm also busy noticing cormorants, gulls, bird guano, malicious tree roots sticking up from the path, and boats. So, twice now, I've nearly been attacked by a furious, hissing Canada goose because I accidentally jogged too close to his or her gosling.
You can't reason with a goose, but I really don't think I'm to blame if that gosling is camouflage-colored and sitting on dirt. Instead of trying to put a hole in my leg, Mother Goose, why don't you park your young on the grass so we can see and avoid them? I do try to keep clear of them but their markings are so clever that they practically disappear — unless there's a big group. I've counted up to 20 goslings in one gaggle [stupid term; it's a flock, for crying out loud].
So much for those zealous teams of goose-egg poppers armed with darning needles that go hunting for nests every spring. Heck of a job on the population control so far....
Anyway, I realized today that things have gotten to the point where, when I see a goose just looking in my direction, I get nervous and have to change my route to avoid it. I've been trained by those nasty birds. I can't wait for those goslings to grow up and help their parents pass their citizenship tests and learn some manners. Or just go back north where they belong.