Today the flock is there again, basking—and snoozing— in the sun, with some ducks.
I look for Analdas and don’t see him until he walks right up to me talking up a storm.
I lead him back from the path, and the water, to spot behind a small tree and feed him. Soon a few of the others take interest, but I shoo them back. Analdas eats hungrily and I see that there are feathers growing out of the blue bones.
After a while, the other geese honk and gather for flight; Analdas runs to the edge of the lake and watches, testing his wings and watching some land in the water. He’s still the odd one out.
Then he jumps into the water and heads to his rock, currently occupied by a pair of geese. I wonder what will happen. This time he feels some power and moves confidently to the low spot of the rock; the others jump off and Analdas takes his place, and flaps his wings in conquest.