I have pleasant memories of three inspiring encounters with migrant geese and swans early in spring over the years in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. The first is about Canada geese one morning early in March when I lived in Neffsville. I was in our yard early in the morning when I noticed a few flocks of loudly honking Canada geese flying directly north low over our neighborhood. Then I saw more groups and more coming from the south and heading north right over our neighborhood, from horizon to horizon. What a sight, and their bugling was nearly deafening. Now my eyes were riveted to the sky to see what would unfold.
As the morning progressed, the hordes of Canada geese became continuous, with several flocks in view at once over our neighborhood. I could see gangs of them from horizon to horizon in all directions. By this time I thought all the Canada geese that nest in Canada were leaving the Chesapeake Bay at once and going north to their breeding territories. What a dramatic, inspiring sight they were, all heading north, honking loudly, wave after wave. The combination of time of year, longer periods of daylight each succeeding day and warmer temperatures finally pushed those geese into the first lap of their migration north to their nesting grounds in eastern Canada
It wasn't until late morning that they had finally gone by and I could go in the house to warm up and calm my senses from such a wild, dramatic wonder as those north-bound Canada geese.
After dusk when the sunset was almost gone one evening early in March of another year, I noticed airborne tundra swans circling fields around Neffsville as if they wanted to land on one of them to feed on waste corn kernels on the ground. I walked a half mile out to a field of corn stubble where it looked like the swans would land and laid on my back among the stubble and faced the remnant sunset. Soon the swans started coming down to the field, bit by bit, silhouetted dark against the western sky. Many of them repeatedly vocalized their soft, pleasant, "woo-hoo, woo-hoo,hoo".
Some of the swans came down within several yards of me lying quietly on my back in that field. Apparently they didn't see me. I laid there for a while listening to the swans and seeing some of them parachute down to the field in the light of a three-quarter moon.
But after a while I had to go home. I slowly rolled over, stood up and walked quietly out of the field, alarming some nearby swans into flight as I progressed. I walked home still listening to those swans as they fed on waste corn kernels.
The third encounter of migrant waterfowl was hordes of snow geese at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area. My wife and I drove there to see the snow geese and tundra swans, again around the beginning of March. We saw the snows were leaving the large, human-made impoundment, flock after flock, and landing in a field near a road. We drove to that road, parked near where the snow geese were coming down and stayed in the car. We opened a couple of windows a bit to hear the high-pitched honking of the snow geese. Other people were doing the same, although some of them got out of their vehicles, which didn't seem to disturb the geese.
As each noisy gang of snow geese came down to the field, it landed closer to the road. Then some groups of snows landed on the other side of the road. We were closely surrounded by bugling snow geese as if we were in their flock. And, in a way, we were! What a thrill; snow geese all around us feeding in the fields.
But, as is their way, the thousands of snows all took flight at once at one point in time, though I couldn't see what startled them. They went up with a deafening roar of voices and wings, blocking out the background scenery as would a blizzard and went aloft, with never a collision among their fellows. Again, what an inspiring, exciting sight they were.
But within a few weeks, or a month, of staging here in Lancaster County as they wait for spring to catch up to their restless urges, the tundra swans and snow geese continue their migration north, little by little to their nesting territories on the Arctic tundra. Winter weather farther north stops them for a while, but soon they are continuing north again, entering the tundra about the middle of May.
Although these birds are inspiring and exciting to experience, in a way I am glad to see them going farther north. Those great flocks of waterfowl are wonderful, but my emotions can take them only for so long. I need to get away from them to rest my worn-out emotions.
These are just a few examples of inspiring nature in Pennsylvania. There are innumerable others, all over the world.
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