A Voice Mesmerized by Carnage

The other day I was recounting an experience I’d had to my friend Alan, who is a pilot.  I told him how I’d been blessed with the opportunity to watch a gaggle of immature Canada geese as they received their “flight training”.

For several minutes I was able to watch the flock as they occupied airspace over Williams’ Oakhurst Dairy Farm in North Anson.  The adult geese flew low over the corn fields and the adjacent Kennebec River, where the flock had spent their summer.  Those in the lead positions would form up the classic “V”, and the juveniles would flap and honk and generally appear disorganized until—suddenly—they seemed to “get it” and they’d fall into line.  After a few moments of flight in "formation"; those in the lead would veer off and break ranks—circling back around over familiar ground. 

Immediately the geese in the lead would reform the “V”—now going in the opposite direction—and the goslings would disperse and complain and again appear muddled and confused.  But what soon became apparent was that this flock was a family.  The grown-ups were teaching the young 'uns exactly how they were going to participate in the autumn migration to southern climes… and how they were going to do it safely.

Watching this ‘rite of passage’ was enthralling, humbling and uplifting.

And perhaps that’s why this story (found on the Wind Turbine Syndrome website) was so disturbing.

Please read it.

And then—please forward it to every wildlife biologist and ornithologist and bird enthusiast you know. 

Please.

And thank you.