Seems like just yesterday that you couldn’t walk ten feet without stumbling across a handful of goslings.
But spring is now fall, the goslings grown to geese. The “aww’s” of adoration at the adorableness of fluffy yellow turned to the “eww’s” of turd-strewn parks.
Seriously, hardly a park in all of Vancouver is safe to run around in barefoot thanks to the minefield of droppings from these rare (ha ha) Canada Geese.
If only the damnable crows ate goose eggs for lunch instead of songbird eggs, we’d certainly have friendlier parkland in the fall. Yet… how much less charming spring would be.