Abraham Lincoln said “You can tell the greatness of a man by what makes him angry.”
I am not a great man.
The other day, I ran past old bungalows and new multistory multi-units down to Sloan’s Lake. Tree-lined boulevards opened onto grass fields and acres of blue-green lake.
I made my way down to the sidewalk circling the lake, intending to fully take in this oasis in the city.
However, my path was impeded by flocks of geese that showed no deference to me, a human, the alpha-male of the animal kingdom. In between dodging their turds that littered the concrete, I was forced multiple times to run obliquely around them, and if I got too close they flapped their wings and cocked their beaks menacingly.
Perturbed (and a bit tired), I stopped by the maintenance building to inquire about this pest. I talked to a worker there who told me they spent five hours a week clearing the paths with a mechanical sweeper — not a lot of time, but the hours multiply when applied to other parks and extended over months.
The worker also told me they had the “Goosinator,” a remote-controlled object painted with a menacing leer to scare away the birds. However, it has fallen into disuse, perhaps in response to the sheer number of geese. And, as another worker pointed out, if you scare them away, they’ll just fly to another park.
Separated from their natural predators by miles of streets, skyscrapers, and interstates, Canada geese have outstretched their wings and claimed Denver’s parks as their home. The migratory goose, one of the original snow birds, has become a permanent resident.
“But you’re not allowed to just shoot them?” I asked.
“Oh, heck no. No. Not at all. It would be nice to have a dog out here, you know, to chase them around.”
“I was walking the path the other day,” he continued, “and I was just looking at it going, Man, this sucks.’ “
“And they don’t get out of the way, you know,” I said.
“Oh, no. They think they own the place.”
And they pretty much do.
The Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918 protects Canada geese along with a number of other migratory birds. At the time of the act’s inception, Canada geese were a threatened species. In 2015, this is clearly not the case.
The Canada geese population sits at more than 5 million in the United States. And most of them do just that, sit. The quadrupled from 1990 to 2009, growing from 1 million to 4 million.
The geese haven’t exactly reciprocated our kindness at letting them live. They are aggressive and territorial. And then there is the matter of their waste. Geese are prodigious poopers, producing two pounds a day, an exceptional amount for a 10-pound animal. Their waste is high in phosphorus, which particularly in shallow lakes where water mixes readily.
Sloan’s Lake is shallow, about 8 feet deep, high in planktonic algae, and murky-green in color due in part to the “accumulation of fine sediments,” . You do the math.
No one can deny the awesome sight of a flock of geese cleaving the sky in their signature “V” formation. Or the feel-good sentiment inspired by the 1996 film “Fly Away Home.” But the sight of geese flying away home in their awesome formation is now less common than a goose holding up traffic.
It is illegal to harm or injure a goose or move its eggs and nest without a federal permit, and acquiring one is not easy. Even with a permit, there is the how.
How to manage the population? Oil the eggs? A border collie for every park?
Like many in my generation, I am a suburbanite raised on the anthropomorphic films of Disney. The thought of killing an animal is unpalatable and seems a personal attack against nature. But an ecosystem thrives when it is in balance, not overrun by one species.
I know it seems petty to talk about geese. But, one factor that contributes to the greatness of a city is its parks. They are places open to all, discriminatory to none. The beauty of a park contributes to the beauty of a city. And the resident Canada geese, protected by a law that does not apply to them, detract from that beauty.
Canada geese are not natural year-round residents of the Denver area. They have overstayed their welcome.
It is time for them to fly away home.
Connecticut native Jay Gurney moved to Northwest Denver earlier this year.
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