Every Fall the Outerbanks becomes host to flocks of migratory birds. Like other moderately temperate Mid-Atlantic locales, our estuary is overrun by variouse species of waterfowl. It's pretty impressive, and a substaintial, yet gentle, reminder of the natural course of things.
Why might you ask am I remided of such a definitively winter occurrence? Not all of the geese return to their summer breeding grounds. Some stay, year-round. They seldom breed, but sometimes do. There has to be a pair, and they mate for life, I'm told. Chicks born to these staggling pairs are up against substantial odds. Food is pletiful, but so are predators. Most of them are singles. Maybe they are older, or injured, or just lazy. They create impromptu flocks, and pretty much just hang out. They aren't out of place, because this is their home away from home.
They are however, not inspiring. They do not fly in majestic formation, flaunting their endurance and single mindedness. They are in a sense counterfeit geese. Yet, by all technical parameters, they are geese. Through and through.
People migrate to the Outerbanks too. Some for weeks at a time, some for years. People are different from geese, in that they do not all operate on the same biological clock. Entry and exit to and from this humble beach region is not set in stone. However, on the same day that I spotted the motley flock of subgeese. I noticed a hitchhiking aquaintance of mine, that is in many ways subhuman.
I'm not sure that he always was. I know from several trips down Colington road, and an odd visit to my yard from time to time, that the indivudual in question has some kids roaming around the beach, by several mothers roaming around the beach. He is a carpenter by trade, but lots of us are. I'm not sure that is significant. The fact is, he has gone to work before, and at times there was enough money flying around a job-site to make him feel like he was getting ahead. Really establishing a foothold. Maybe not, maybe there was just enough cash to get some beer and coke and have a great couple of nights.
I've seen him in better shape, and worse shape. Sometimes he looks completely fine, but he's not. He's got issues with booze and poor planning. If you asked him, I'm sure he can't tell you where it all went wrong. Even as an observer, if his whole life were layed out before you. I doubt you could pick out a moment.
Likewise, the geese. They either get out of here on time, or they don't get out of here. Is it the moment that their flock takes off, and they are left behind. Or, is it earlier in the season, when their partner is lost or hit by a car. Or is it when they decide to go out for tacos the night before they know they are suppose to leave. People are similar when it comes to living a the beach. Some are made for the place, and are never home until they get here. Some don't stay longe enough. Some come and go as the mood suits them, and live richer lives for it. Some stay too long. And when they do, you can spot them. You may not know what exactly is amiss, but you know something is.
I say all of this to coin a phrase. Nobody wants to be rude or judgmental. And so, I'll try to keep it scientific. I've not named my associate, and I don't have to. He's a stray goose. Others like him are stray geese. No value judgement neede, just a statement of the facts.
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