I trudged to my spot through the leaf litter and muddy terrain bundled up in sweatshirt and leggings. This was first time I’d worn closed toed shoes besides being obligated to. I noticed the ducks as soon as I got to the water’s edge. Throughout this semester I have been trying to be more aware of my surroundings, truly listening and looking for the wildlife around me. I usually am unlucky don’t get to see much wildlife at my spot, perhaps the location isn’t the best or my southern parts of the stream don’t have the best fish.

I first noticed four big Canadian geese all standing near each other in the sandbar of the creek, along with two mallard ducks swimming next to them. The geese were standing rather odd, switching off from one leg to the other, but almost all of them were standing on only one leg at a time. I watched them for a while; always standing on one leg and from time to time they would broaden their wingspan for a moment almost like a big stretch in the morning. My presence must not of bothered them because even when I moved around like a bull in a china shop their heads would turn, but they would still stand on that one leg and after a second look away.

I knew I had seen this weird phenomenon before and it took my weekend trip home to realize where. I drove the three minutes to my favorite beach spot and sat with coffee, and there I realized all the pesky seagulls were too standing with one leg tucked up and the other balancing them upright. The birds do this for warmth; by tucking one leg up they minimize half of their heat loss through their legs I have learned. I then wondered why seagulls do this even in the high of summer time, but I guess it has something to do with their circulatory system verse a humans.

I wondered if the geese learned through observation or if it was simply instinctual to balance their bodies on one leg. Scott Russell Sanders wrote about inheriting tools from his family line. I wonder if these birds learned from their parents who learned from theirs that this was a tricky way to stay warm as the seasons begin to change. Sanders wrote about how whenever he has to hammer a nail into something he thinks of his father and how he would do this task. Sanders mentioned that the scar on his finger left from the day he was hammering and found out his father had died was a remembrance of his father he couldn’t escape. Every time I see Canadian geese I think immediately of my backyard and marshland behind my house. I think of how when hunting season rolls around I can hear the shots from my house and about how one time I teased one of the geese bad enough for it to bite me as I ran away and it made me bleed. I also think about how rare it is to see their babies, its like one-day they’re tiny and cute and the next day their hissing at me as I pass them.

I think Sanders often writes about his father because he sees a great deal of himself in his father, he makes note of the good and the bad his father had and mirrors it with reflections on his own life. It reminds me of how every-time I cook something I think of how my father would prep this food and his little catch phrases like “air is the enemy,” when putting leftovers away. And I find myself saying this to my roommates when they leave opened containers in the fridge. Whenever I got to the beach I pack extra snacks and always something sweet because you never actually want the fruit you pack because that’s what my mom had taught me. I’ve grown to act and think much like my parents and it took going away to school to really understand I am mini-versions of them, though I am taller than both technically. Maybe the geese have to learn to act and do as their parents in order understand how life works and how to stay warm.