Night of The Living Goose

Modern society is plagued by a number of scientific mysteries. How did the universe originate? What are the ethical limits of medical science? And just where do the geese in Port Washington go at night?

The last of these questions, while perhaps not as compelling as the first two, has the distinct advantage of being answerable. Almost every Port Washington resident interacts with the Canada goose (Branta canadensis) in one way or another. Whether we take our children to feed them, stop our cars as they cross the street, or simply ruin a brand-new pair of shoes by stepping in their droppings, no honest-to-goodness, red-blooded Atlantic-coaster can have a neutral opinion of these prolific avians.

The Canada goose has established numerous footholds in Port Washington, which is hardly surprising, since its natural habitat encompasses everything from tundra to salt marsh. "Canada geese are grazers," writes the Humane Society of the United States. "Our well-tended grass is the ultimate free buffet... If they feel threatened, parks, golf courses, and stormwater management ponds offer them easy access to safety on open water." Yet wander by a local goose haunt past sundown, and your chances of spotting one diminish considerably.

Some people have had cause to wonder – no doubt while staving off more important trains of thought – just what happens to these nocturnally elusive beasts as the witching hour approaches. At the same time, the limits of sanity prevent most Long Islanders from trekking out of their homes into the buggy evening and following a bunch of birds around.

Those limits do not apply to the intrepid reporter who wrote this article.

Baxter Pond was peaceful at Saturday night around 8 p.m. The sounds of water rushing through the drainage grate mingled with the cooling twilight air and the vermillion sun hanging low in the sky. This was the kind of night that can make a person glad to be alive and out-of-doors – although it would be nice if the out-of-doors came with a complimentary can of bug spray.

By this time, the geese had already vanished, but they did not go far. A gaggle of fifty or so geese sat in the ebbing tide, fluttering their wings, flying short distances, and dipping their bills into the brackish water to fish out algae and other plants.

As the sun retreated and the darkness encroached, the geese met with the local ducks, herons, egrets, cormorants, and rats – but the other animals all tended to keep their distance as the geese followed the tide ever-outward and batted their wings threateningly at any bystander who got too close.

When the sun had gone down and the moon was in full glow, the geese stopped foraging, and sat themselves on the bay's surface, bobbing up and down in the gentle undulations of the tide. Seemingly settled in, by 10:30 p.m., they showed no indication of leaving, at least until the next morning.

For the residents of Port Washington, one small mystery has been solved. If the answer to an even greater scientific riddle turns up here, though, the next story on the geese will have to wait.