May 16, 2006

The Hidden Predators of Montana

Today I was attacked by vicious, man-eating geese.

No, really. I'm totally serious. Vicious Geese.

I'd gone to the park to read this morning because it was warm and I wanted to be outside and away from my apartment. I parked my car in the shade, grabbed my book, and decided to take off down the trail in search of a nice bench to land on. A few feet down the trail, I noticed that there were a few geese sunning themselves by the creek. A few more feet, and I noticed even more geese swimming around by the edges. I continued to wander on, thinking about what a lovely picture they all made. I spied a bench in the distance and took off in a determined stride.

And then, out of no where, they attacked.

It happened so suddenly that it took me a few seconds to realize that these were no ordinary picturesque geese. They were vicious attack geese that were out to get me. The pack was led by a particularly large goose with a bright orange beak and a gleaming white coat.
He looked like this:

Except his eyes were glowing red. And he was bigger.

Much bigger.

And scarier.

Much scarier.

Anyway, he came charging up the incline, making the biggest ruckus I've ever heard, flapping his wings and barreling straight at me. As soon as his compatriots heard his battle cry, they fell into formation behind him, all squawking away and holding their wings out like they were herding me.

At first, I just laughed. But then the leader's eyes flashed red and he and his friends sped up their attack. I knew they were serious. As they came ever marching forward, I had a split moment where I had to decide if I was going to allow them to run me off the path or if I was going to charge back at them. I paused in the middle of the path, determined that they weren't going to do any real harm to me, and decided to plunge onward in my quest of a reading bench.

But they didn't back down. The squawking got louder, the flapping wings more intent, and the leader's eyes got even redder.

I continued to laugh out loud, showing them that they didn't scare me. I wasn't afraid of a bunch of geese. Even with their loud squawking and mammoth beaks and beady red eyes. I. was. not. afraid.

But they were making a real scene, and you all know how I hate to be the center of attention. So for the good of the many, I suddenly remembered that there was a perfect bench on the other side of the street that I had spotted earlier and I better hurry on over there before someone took it.

And with that, I turned and causally sauntered away. To the other people in the park, it may have looked like I ran , but they were mistaken. I was only interested in securing my bench before someone else noticed it's perfect location.


  1. Tori,
    I too am a southern expatriate in Montana. New Orleans, Ocean Springs, Mobile and Memphis have been my home until 5 years ago when I moved to western Montana. Give it a bit of time and you will become, not to be perjoritive, incurably infected. The people here are more like those that our parents grew up with than we will ever find down South. Kind, independent, uncommon combination. After perusing you site, it would seem spurious to convince you of the innate beauty that surronds us. For what its worth, welcome from a relative newcomer to this place that will get into your soul as deeply as any southern clime.

  2. Geese! We have TONS of Canada geese down here in Great Falls -- but not so many of the white ones.