Squish. I'm near the backside of Brunswick High School and I step into something (with my brand new Asics Cumulus shoes) that came from the backside of a goose. Until that point, I'd been doing a pretty decent dance to avoid the droppings, but all it took was one brief moment of less than 100% concentration for a misstep to occur. I now notice a few Canada Geese hanging around nearby, snickering at my misfortune.
Notice that I have used the correct plural form of Canada Goose. It is Canada Geese, not Canadian Geese. This common error has festered itself into my psyche such that it's become my life's mission to expunge it from the English Language. Thus I find myself patiently correcting everyone who uses the incorrect form. And that's a lot of people. ("Regardless of their nationality, they're still Canada Geese," I'll say. Such corrections make for a wonderful way to make and keep friends.) I sometimes hedge the correction a little, allowing that in the unlikely event that particular birds truly are from Canada, they would then be Canadian Canada Geese. I've also just now learned that Canada Goose also is the name of a clothing company.
Canada Geese have become somewhat of a nuisance in suburban settings. They're aggressive when guarding their young, and of course, they leave their droppings everywhere. The funny thing is, I am old enough to remember when they were new. Really. At least new to these parts. I think that, like deer, opossums, raccoons, skunks, and a few other animals, they've recently learned to adapt (and quite well) to our human landscapes and lifestyle.
Makes me wonder: why don't we eat them? Seriously. Turns out, some do get eaten, but there are issues to be considered.
Today's run brings me ten miles closer to completion of the Great Virtual Run Across Tennessee (and back). The virtual finish line - back to the Arkansas border - is only a few days away.
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