Why Looking at Photos is Easier Than Taking Them

On this spectacularly sunny day in the Burgh (but, then, aren't they all?) I delighted in a pleasant run downtown and back, taking advantage of the lovely Three Rivers Heritage Trail System. No traffic. Stunning view of the skyline. Peaceful. A great place to wander into the rhythm of a run and feel the stress of the week melt away. That is, if you had a stressful week. I haven't really had one since around November 3, but I still love this trail.

Somewhere between the Rachel Carson (9th Street) and David McCullough (16th) Street - my favorite in Pittsburgh in case you're wondering - bridges, I came upon this family of Canada geese. Six or seven goslings escorted by their parents across the trail down the bank of the slightly higher than usual Allegheny River. Four of the goslings are visible in this picture, but I promise there were more. There were, in fact, several such families, as I'd discover as I continued my run. That's daddy goose behind the tree. At least, I'm pretty sure it's daddy. I didn't do a complete inspection, but this was the bigger of the two and from what I understand in a pairing the larger is usually the male. That, and the reaction of the other to me getting too close in order to snap this photo are really my only clues.

My daughter is a huge fan of geese. She inexplicably thinks they are adorable. I don't necessarily have anything against them, other than they tend to defecate all over the trail (and, I do mean all over the trail) and have been known to chase me at picnics in search of my sandwich. I do not share sandwiches. Because Em loves geese, and I love Em, I decided to send her a picture of these handsome ones. She's returning from the wedding of a dear friend in Kentucky and I thought the photo would sweeten the car ride.

This picture, while certainly not of the quality of my friend Caleb Gregg, is the best I could do with my phone. This is attempt # 5 and the geese were about to escape into the trees. So, it's the one I went with. I sent it to Em and stood watching a moment longer.

Mama had had enough. She took two or three steps toward me, which I initially thought was kind of cool. Maybe I could get a closer photo of her. I fumbled with my phone briefly before it was made evident that another picture was not in the plan. Her plan was to a) chase me away or, failing that b) kill me and drag my body into the river where she and her children could feast on my fatty flesh.

When I didn't take the hint of her first steps, she opened what turned out to be an enormous mouth and let out an alarming hiss. Nagini would have been proud. It's a very good thing I'd gone to the bathroom before leaving, or this story would have had a much messier ending. Instead, I bounced backward into the trail, causing an approaching bicyclist to swerve around me, laughing.  Then I just stood there. Not sure why. Had she been a poodle I am sure I'd have already been in a dead sprint.

She wasn't sure why either, and made that quite clear by taking another step, flapping her wings and

hissing again. This time her mouth opened roughly the size of Mammoth Cave. People have been known to disappear in such places.

That was the last I saw of her. I'm pretty sure the next half mile was the quickest of my run. I steered clear of all future Canada geese.