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This goose posed for me down by the town lake. He looks proud, doesn't he?

Someone told me that other day that the reason kids don't play on the huge expanse of grass outside his apartment building is because of all the goose droppings. Geese have taken over the plot of land, and there they eat grass, hang out and poop. Everywhere. The poor kids are forced to play at the playground a block away, where there's gravel on the ground and broken beer bottles that teenagers have left behind. Sad.

Geese are big and slow and they honk. They're ok birds, I guess. This one, anyway, seems to know a thing or two about attitude and poise. He seems almost philosophical as he gazes out across the lake towards the evening sunset. Who knows where he's been, over what waters he's flown and to what distant lands he's journeyed. He is a goose with a vision and I'm proud to feature him in my humble Icelandic journal

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