A Canada Goose that wasn't really Canadian

The snow geese are making fewer appearances in Richmond these days, so I didn't expect to see them when I tried to appease my son to look for them in Terra Nova.

At first, we saw them in a vacant field fenced off from the public, and I thought that would be our best view of them.  The geese then started swarming a more luxurious patch of grass.

This is one of the wealthier areas of Richmond; the dense lawn these geese are fertilizing is cropped short, golf-course style.  Their visit to this patch must be rare - residents were outside on their balconies, snapping videos.

Then we saw this bird, not like the others:

"Canada Goose", I confidently educated my son.  He repeated after me.  We followed behind it to get a better look, as it not only seemed out of place, but to my eye unusually smaller than a typical Canada Goose.  The neck seemed scrawny compared to its white companions.

Later, upon Googling, I realized it might not even be a Canada Goose.  I had no idea there was such a thing as a Cackling Goose, nor did most of the birding world before 2004, when it became officially recognized as a separate species from the Canada Goose.  The Cackling Goose has a smaller body and shorter neck are the more obvious differences from the Canada Goose, as is a steeper head and shorter beak if you should get close enough to see.

They nest in the tundra, which might explain why it's flocked with the snow geese.  Lucky for us, since we never would've given it a second look had it flocked with Canada Geese.

Our last snowfall

As coincidence would have it, the arrival of another flock of snow geese came the day before we had an actual snowfall.  Got some closeup video of the geese feeding, and some interesting group behaviour, including the moment when they all notice a pair of bald eagles approaching.

Our first snowfall

Snow geese are an annual visitor to Richmond, to the delight of some, and the disdain of school janitors.

We've been hearing them squawking overhead for the last few weeks, but last week, we checked out the flock gathering at the school.  While sights of the field inundated with birds is common, normally there might only be between a dozen to a hundred birds landing at once.  Never have we seen a flock of thousands of birds landing at once.  It was quite a treat, standing in the midst of such commotion.

The flock was quite uniform - I saw only a single ring-billed gull and a blue morph as part of the flock.

ring-billed gull - it walked around for a few seconds with its wing spread, though with no apparent sign of injury

blue colour morph

In a world where it seems every species is in decline, it's comforting to see some wilderness finding success in spite of humanity.  Snow geese are increasing at the rate of 5% per year (Wikipedia), giving hope that our children's children might be able to enjoy this form of wildlife.

At one point, something spooked them, and we felt the wind of thousands of beating wings frantically ascending at once. There was no point in trying to dodge the bits of mud and mostly-digested grass dropping off their feet as they took to the skies.

And like the snow that falls around our city, it can disappear quickly, leaving only a bit of sludge behind.