Waterfoul!

One thing we love about Boise is the greenery (well, not now, but come spring). It's not called the City of Trees for nothing. In season, the many parks feature broad swathes of vivid green dappled by the shadows of huge old trees of many different species. On a warm, sunny day, the urge to throw one's self on the sod and roll around in ecstasy is almost irresistible. Especially after a long winter.

It is, however, wise to resist that urge, because, as always, the devil is in the detail. The devil in this case being Boise's large year-round population of geese.

They're everywhere, even wandering the industrial park where I work.
At first, their presence is almost magical. Watching a vast gaggle
of them grazing for insects and seeds in the grass, even in the snow,
is a delight, as is hearing the muffled chug of their slow wingbeats
and their comically mournful honking as they slog through the air
just above the treetops.

They waddle through the streets at random, totally unfazed
by traffic, often imposing unintended street closings.
Charming at first, to be sure. Then not so much.

But the real problem is the poop, vast quantities of it everywhere
(like shit through a goose), rendering the sidewalks and the grass
navigable only with the greatest of care.
So forget about rolling on the grass, forget about playing tag or frisbee
or romping with your grandchildren. The parks, while providing
welcoming verdant oases for the eye, offer all the actual appeal
of cavorting in a minefield.

P.