Baby critter season
Late May and early June are primetime baby-critter season around these parts. Ducklings and goslings, of course—one intrepid goose couple in the bay has ten youngsters, which has got to be a hassle and a half. The goose families are fairly social; more than once I’ve seen a sort of goose playdate, three or four families mowing the lawn together. The mallards aren’t like that; they keep their families separated, because adults will attack ducklings that don’t belong to them.
There’s also a baby rabbit living near Brittingham Park. Bit nervous, but insanely cute, right down to its little tuft of a tail. I think the dark-gray finch-sized birds hanging out in a dark-gray posse are juvenile starlings, but I could be wrong.
Should I tire of younglings, I can always keep an eye out for the green heron, who gets huffy and flies off if I get too close, or the purple martins and swallows in the martin-houses on the west side of the bay, or the little bunch of goldfinches who hang out at one house’s thistle-seed bags.
Goldfinches are wonderful. They are just joy in bird form. There’s no better way to start or end a day than to happen upon goldfinches.