Life on the River

Life on the river is beginning to change. The last batch of chicks are growing up now, taking on their adult colours, we won’t be seeing any more babies until next season.

I notice the youngest goslings are changing. The last of the geese family to have chicks escorts them down the river, and I can see one chick already has his yellow beak, the other one still with a dark beak and his spiky baby hairs.

Only two in this family, which makes me wonder if the parents lost some of their young.


I’ve been watching the bird families on the river since early spring, the geese making the most noise, honking like air raid sirens and flapping wings “Don’t mess with me”.

It’s an impressive sight in the morning as the flotilla of geese parade down the river, with the young positioned in the centre.

Always four adults as guard duty, and no quarter given if anyone gets too near. Wham! The offender gets beaten up, dunked under the water, hit the road Jack.


Photo: Iffley Lock, the Cottage

I sit by the river and listen to geese couples talk, in conversation geese have short deep notes.
One goose doesn’t say so much, I’ll bet my last stick of lip gloss, that’s the guy.
“Yes dear, no dear, of course dear.”
Yea sure, keep the peace dear, and hope she forgets all the other stuff she was laying on me.

The lock-keeper’s cottage is a mass of flowers, the dog a kind of walking carpet, slumps on the path in the heat. The coots splash about near the river bank, preferring the shelter of bushes and reeds.

It’s the end of the year, and the mother coot has had enough, she gets physical with one of the chicks who’s messing about.

Maybe it’s time the kids left home.

Soon the geese will take the migrating flight, but not the Canadian geese.
We will see them on the river over the winter.