It had been a quiet morning in the park. Casting their shadow on the path and onto me as I walked, tall trees lined either side of the way, thick with branches and underbrush. Occasionally, down and to the right, I could see a glimpse of something through the trees, a bright spot, compelling in some special way. It looked like a long pool of water lit up by the morning sun. My curiosity was high. I stepped off the path, dodging branches, stepping over roots, looking ahead, trying to see what might be hiding down there.
My eyes had gotten used to the shaded path. They took a moment to adjust to the brightness I saw as I reached the edge of the water. The trees cast a shadow from the bank, but out beyond that shadow, the sun reflected off still waters, with tall dried weeds on the opposite side.
Having been walking for an hour or so, I found a spot and sat down for a moment. How peaceful that little scene was. It was picturesque, but not interesting enough to make me take a photo. I put down my camera and leaned back against the thick trunk of a tree, my feet just inches from the water. I guess I got pretty comfortable.
I dozed off.
I don't know how long I was asleep, but distant honking roused me. I opened my eyes to a bit of a start. I had pulled my wide-brimmed hiking hat over my eyes. The unexpected darkness disoriented me for a second. I sat up, adjusted my hat, and looked off to my right, toward the sound.
Two geese were leisurely paddling toward me. They probably had not seen me. Sometimes geese are quite bold around humans, and sometimes they bolt, flying away like something dangerous was after them.
If they kept coming, those geese might be the addition to the scene I needed for an interesting composition. I got ready, sitting still, breathing quietly.
With elbows on knees, I got my camera in position. The focal length of my lens was perfect. The morning light was beautiful. Dang; they were moving slowly.
But they did not get spooked. They kept coming. And then, there they were, right in front of my camera. I fired off six quick shots. That's about all my camera's buffer would hold. They didn't even seem to notice. Today's photo is the best of that spray-and-pray burst.
Looking at the back of my camera, I could see that I had at least one good shot. I started to get up when I noticed one of the park's utility carts up on the paved path. I wasn't supposed to be that far off the path, so I sat there until the cart was out of sight. (don't tell nobody)
Wait a minute! I forgot an important part of the story. Right before I fired off those quick photos, something started biting me on the inner thigh of my right leg. And because of the situation, I could not do anything about it. After I got my photo, the biting got worse, downright painful. That's when I noticed the utility cart up on the paved path. I had to wait for a couple more minutes before I could do anything. As soon as that dang cart was out of sight, I unbuckled my belt, unzipped, and pull down my pants to my knees. A big red welt was on my inner thigh. But the culprit was not there. In fact, it started biting on the back of my calf, just below my knee joint.
Turns out, jeans won't slip off over boots. I know; I tried. Word of advice, if you are near water and cannot swim, do not try to pull off your pants over your boots while you are standing up. I learned that lesson soon enough to avoid getting wet; thank goodness.
I had to take off my boots and pull off my pants. So I stood there, in my shirt and socks and underwear, looking through my jeans, trying to find what had been biting me. I turned them inside out.
Never found anything.
What does it sound like when a goose is laughing? The reason I ask, is because while I stood there, both of the geese started making quite a racket. The next thing I knew, several more geese flew in and landed in the water right in front of me. They were all honking. They were still honking when I got my clothes back on and headed back up toward the paved path.
As far as I know, nobody got that on video. And if they didn't, it never happened.