Last week I shared some observations of Killdeer chicks dealing with the road along my local shorelines, a major hazard for young birds who can’t fly yet but who need to go back and forth from the fields to the beach. Actually I was planning to describe two different ground-nesters but when Kestrel couldn’t host last week (she’s moving, and snowed under with tons of logistics) I decided to split up the two stories and run the second one this week. Which also gives me a good excuse to post a bunch more photos than originally intended, lol. Hope your packing project is going smoothly Kestrel, and we’ll see you again when you get everything sorted out after your move.
This is basically a photodiary of a common-as-dirt type of bird we all know, but looking at them in this narrow breeding season window, in a very particular setting. Since Canada geese are abundant and widespread, I’d be very interested to hear what other folks are seeing in how geese manage this time of year, especially in other settings.
I live in a semi-rural residential environment in western Washington state. Most of our Canada geese are migratory but a considerable number live here year round, which means nesting. As ground-nesting birds their eggs are vulnerable to mammals, around here primarily raccoons, mink, dogs, cats and humans, but not to coyotes, foxes or bears since we have none. Aerial predators like crows, ravens and gulls take a toll too, but geese can minimize predation by nesting on offshore islands like the one below. I stumbled across a nest there on April 25 and watched the island from a distance for a few weeks afterward hoping to see what happened when the eggs hatched and the goslings made their exodus.
The big difference between precocial birds like killdeer and geese, and altricial birds like finches, crows etc, is that they have to be mostly functional from the moment they hatch, feeding themselves and escaping predators. The problem is that 1) they aren’t full grown the way altricial birds are when they leave their nests, and 2) they can’t fly. Finches and all are still begging their parents for food once they fledge, but they can fly quite well. Precocial birds are the reverse. All parents look after their juvs, but birds like killdeer and geese are mostly protecting them from dangers as the youngsters follow them around learning where food can be found.
Geese incubate longer than altricial birds but even so, the chicks are tiny when they hatch. Parent geese lead them away from the nest immediately.
Goslings can swim almost immediately but it’s risky for them to drink saltwater in their first week of life since their nasal salt glands haven’t developed the capacity for filtering salt yet (Effects of Saline Drinking Water on Early Gosling Development). Therefore, while parents prefer nesting on islands offshore for protection, they have to move the newly hatched goslings to freshwater immediately. Judging from the numbers of goslings this year I suspect geese nested in other spots too, there being a finite number of offshore rocks and islands, but they are pretty cagey about their nests and I can’t say what other spots they used.
This past year an unprecedented number of geese congregated in the field behind my nearby bays because the landowner plowed and replanted 10 acres. New grass is considerably more more nutritious than when it’s established, and these geese knew a good thing when they taste it. Over the winter I consistently counted a couple hundred at a time in there. Come spring, the nesting began and I started seeing goslings in May. This set of 2 below was on the same beach as I first saw the killdeer chicks. These very young ones were foraging in the washed up eelgrass. Interestingly, what alarmed the parents more than the cars and people on the road nearby was dogs. You can see their reaction to barking in the video clip. When they got especially nervous they took the goslings out into the ocean, even though the tiny yellow babbies look too young to be drinking seawater. But the little ones have no trouble swimming, and appear to relish it.
I had no idea how many families of geese there were until an incident in late May. The grass was getting pretty tall by then and the geese were hanging out toward the back of the field, farthest from the road and beach, but near a pond. I couldn’t see over the grass except occasionally heads and necks.
The property owner drove his truck into the field, apparently intending to replant in a spot where standing water had limited new grass growth (later on I confirmed that with a neighbor, who also said the geese promptly ate up all the new seed — duh, but this guy is a pretty half-assed “farmer”; I wouldn’t have expected any better from him, having taken possession of this big piece of land from his wife’s family, and using what’s otherwise an unbuildable wetland for its tax benefit). As the truck drove amongst the geese there was a mass cacophonous exodus. Nearly 200 flew out of the field, across the road, and landed in the bay.
I was about to get back on my bike and pedal away when five minutes later I noticed activity in the yard of the house in the picture above.
Two families of geese and several other adults were trekking toward the ocean, on foot. Because the goslings couldn’t fly yet they had to walk all the way from the far end of the field, and then negotiate the very same road as the killdeer did, for the same reason.
Like the killdeer chick who had a near miss with the car, the danger here is that the road curves around blind corners and hills. Motorists are mostly respectful of wildlife on the road, but when you’re in a car sometimes you’re upon them before you can react to avoid them. The geese were taking the path of least resistance, down the road.
When a car came around the corner they became agitated, hightailed it to the grassy verge, and talked it over, deciding to continue down toward the beach on the grass now the danger was past.
However when another car came zooming by, that was it for the adults. They bailed, taking flight, leaving the goslings behind. The two sets of goslings then pelted down the road as fast as they were able, somehow knowing where to go. But not very fast. Running is the least efficient way for geese to get around. Geese swim and fly beautifully but waddling is neither speedy nor graceful.
On the beach, everyone got themselves sorted out, goslings with their own set of parents. Then all launched off into the sea, clearly relieved to be in a safe environment.
I figured the drama was over, and all these geese would paddle around for a while waiting for things to settle down in the field. I watched them for a while and was just heading off when I noticed a cascade of goslings coming down the bluff. Evidently even more families had trekked across the field and crossed the road, but more cleverly had avoided the risk of taking the roadside route to the beach. By this time I totally lost track of how many families had emerged from the tall grass of the field.
Over the next four weeks the grassy field still hid an unknown number of geese and goslings, but one day I happened to be walking along a road that passes by the pond at the far end of the field and saw a goose head pop up above the grass beyond. Then another, and goosey conversation began. In no time, a crowd of geese and goslings emerged out of the rustling grass.
Soon enough I saw why. Someone was walking by the pond on the other side. The geese, which had been grazing there, got spooked, and as they typically do, headed for the nearest water for safety.
Since then I’ve seen geese in various parts of the field (now mowed), in two nearby ponds, and in the bay. They seem to be dispersing, in comparison to their earlier single big flock. There were 60 or so in the bay a few days ago and that’s as big a group I’ve seen recently.
Some of our Canada geese migrate north to breed but obviously a lot of our huge winter flock, if not most, stayed right here. These birds evidently nested over a long interval this spring judging from the various ages of youngsters. Canada goose juveniles start shifting from down to feathers at 3 weeks and are fully feathered in two months, at which time they can finally fly. That’s three months total from egg-laying to fledge. Goslings hatched in May are now able to accompany their flying parents from the field to the bay right over the road — that risky road is no longer a danger to them. But the downy youngsters at the pond a month ago still have some growing to do before they can come and go as freely. We’re now in the height of tourist season, which means a big increase in car traffic, so these later clutches will find the road even more hazardous than did the older families.
I’ll be curious to see whether a gigantic flock congregates in the field again this winter; maybe not, since the grass won’t be as tender and nutritious. By my count, they added at least 60 new geese to the population, likely more. Unlike the killdeer, they were enormously successful raising youngsters, even dealing with the same road risk. Perhaps because geese are bigger, more visible to cars? Or because they travel in groups, also more visible?
Dawn Chorus is now open for your birdy observations of the week.
Seeing signs of nesting or youngsters? Or?