Canadian Aliens

This is the time of year when "our" snowbirds come in just after the sun has set. They are returning from a day of gleaning the fallow cornfields or soybean fields that are dusted in bits of snow. These snowbirds do not reenter our portion of the creek with any diplomatic grace. They are loud and honking and splashing and seem to be arguing over the best place to land or which side of our small creek is theirs. They continue this diatribe into the early evening as we finish our dessert. Then they seem to grow quiet as we watch our television programs and later snuggle into our sheets reading before falling asleep. That quiet may last until about 2:00 or 3:00 A.M. when a fox or raccoon or shadow startles them once again in the gray night and the honking is like a football fan wave as it crosses the crowd on the river getting louder as it reaches our shore. TOUCHDOWN!  In the early foggy morning I attempt to sneak down and get a few photos of the protesters who seem so small to have made so much noise. They do seem a bit blustery and rude for Canadians.

They stretch their necks trying to see me move down toward the dock and between their movement, the distance and the mist, my photos are poor.

They move away toward the center as I try to quietly approach, camera in hand.

The white "V" follows their white butts as they head in any direction away from my dock.

Those who have made it past the dock head out toward the mouth of the river, hoping that no duck blinds are populated with early morning hunters that may be scanning the foggy waters as these swimmers move to the open road.  While there are hundreds, they are soon gone to other land until sunset once again.