Geese in the Gloom

     During a few overcast late afternoons in the middle of February of this year, I was watching several thousand attractive, constantly honking snow geese floating and swimming on the 400 acre lake at Middle Creek Wildlife Management Area in southeastern Pennsylvania through our computer screen at home, as I had been for the last few weeks.  During those twilights the lake reflected the gray sky and sometimes light rain fell, creating a cold, dismal scene.  Woods on two sides of that human-made impoundment appeared black in the gloom and weedy fields bordering the lake were dark beige, helping to cause a cheerless landscape in many peoples' opinions.  But I saw beauty in the cloudy sky, woods, fields and masses of noisy, white snow geese in the midst of that dreariness at dusk.  
     In February and March, for more than thirty years, I drove to Middle Creek to see wintering snow geese, Canada geese, tundra swans and a variety of duck species that gathered on the lake  before migrating north or west to their nesting grounds.  But now, because of warm convenience and aching knees, I am content to experience snow geese and other kinds of waterfowl through our computer screen at home.
     As I watched the snow geese on the sky-reflecting, gray water late in those overcast, rainy late afternoons and early evenings, waves of more snows swept over the impoundment like ocean waves sliding up a beach, then spiraled down, flock after flock after flock, for about 20 minutes, to the lake and landed among their fellows.  That raft of snow geese quickly expanded across the water.  And those many thousands of snow geese brought cheer, beauty and excitement to an, otherwise, gloomy scene.  
     The snow geese in flight appeared dark before the light-gray clouds, but white when seen in front of the black woods as the geese swirled down to the water, group after bugling group.
     Snow geese are unique in the way they form conspicuous, noisy hordes of tens of thousands and travel and do everything together in those great masses.  They create white islands on lakes and make a field look like snow fell only on that one parcel of land.
     Wintering snow geese, Canada geese and tundra swans today have learned to eat corn kernels in harvested fields and the green shoots of grass and winter grain plants.  And because of their adapting to feeding in fields, these kinds of large waterfowl are numerous in agricultural areas of southeastern Pennsylvania, and parts of Maryland, Delaware and New Jersey through each winter.  Though they feed in fields, these species rest in comparative safety on built impoundments.
     I have seen the stately snow geese in fields, on lakes, and in the sky between those habitats dear to the geese.  I've seen them in all kinds of weather in winter and early spring, including snowfalls and sunny skies.  But a special treat to me is to experience these tough, adaptable birds at dusk under a cloudy sky.  They seem appropriate and are beautiful in those cheerless, winter times and habitats.  Snow geese prove there is beauty and intrigue in most every time and place on Earth.  And we humans have the God-given talent of experiencing the beauty of nature, wherever it is.
     Sometime in March, snow geese leave Middle Creek and push north, little by little, to their nesting territories on the Arctic tundra.  But they provided much beauty, interest and entertainment to many people while they were wintering here.  And they were a special beauty to me when their thousands spiraled down to Middle Creek's lake during dusk when cloudy skies, dark woods and solemn fields seemed foreboding.  Multitudes of boisterous snow geese added pulsing life to an otherwise dismal habitat.  Beauty is where one finds it, most everywhere on Earth.