duck, duck, goose.

There is a longer story that I may manage to tell another time, but the short version of it is this: my Mister has a new job, we’ve (we’ve! both of us!) signed a lease on a townhouse, and I am currently sitting in said townhouse while he is at said job.

I’m only here for a long weekend, to help him get settled in the New Place and tidy up the Old Place before we turn his keys in tomorrow, but it’s already staring to feel like home.

I’ve been looking to this visit for at least a month; a couple of days on his side of the state while he is at work means I have little to nothing to actually DO. Four days away from The Job? Sign me up. I had plans of napping for the better part of Thursday, but those were quickly dashed when we got home from the airport Wednesday night and saw that a roofing crew had set up shop in the parking lot directly in front of our building. Sure enough, my naps yesterday morning were punctuated by what I’m fairly certain were elephants who have been trained to hold hammers.

After finally getting out of bed around 2ish, I decided to go adventuring. I’d heard rumors of a bike path that lies directly behind the property and connects with the main shopping district of the tiny town we’ll be living in. Only one way to find out, right?

I managed to find the admittedly-kind-of-creepy path through the trees that leads to the bike path, and after also managing not to kill myself tripping over large rocks and roots, I found this:

view to the left.

view to the left.

view to the right.

view to the right.

I almost felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. There’s all this lush, beautiful greenery lining a creek, and it’s so quiet — well, except when a train passes overhead, I expect.

And after setting off towards town, I met some friends.

mama and babies -- nine of them!

mama and babies — nine of them!

I cannot even tell you how adorable this mama and her babies were, but I can show you.


Apparently geese are a big thing around here; there are goose-crossing signs all over the place. There were about 18 of them in the gaggle that I walked through, and lord, that was kind of scary. Even the ones who were quietly resting in the shade of a tree were eyeing me up, and I idly wondered if Hitchcock ever considered making a sequel called The Geese.

part of the gaggle.

part of the gaggle.

Shortly after that I made it to town, wasted 45 minutes trying to find a Italian grocer that Google Maps lied to me about, stopped at a bakery that doesn’t yet know that it will be employing me in the future, and got caught in a downpour on the way home. All in all, a pretty good day.

I could totally live here.

Comments

  1. 1

    says

    Those geese are beyond adorable. Really, anything that waddles is pretty adorable if you ask me.

    Serious question, we call these Canada geese. I don’t know why, never questioned it but now I’m wondering if our geese are different from your geese. Or possibly the name just changes once it flies north of the border.

  2. 2

    Amy says

    Juels, I asked Google, and it turns out they ARE Canada Geese! That’s their official name and everything. Who knew?! (Certainly not me.)

    Now I will have to give them Canadian names, because I can’t live near animals without naming them.

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