If you're a veteran of Corban's seasonal changes, you've noticed the change of leaves and the more consistent habits of fog draping itself all over the road. You may have felt a tingling in your earlobes as a long, wheedling honk warbles over the airwaves, and if you've caught a shadowy V-formation in your periphery, you know what's coming.

Dear freshman, the ridiculously long sentences of prose are here to tell you in layman's terms; the geese are coming.

You may wonder, "What's the big deal? It's just geese." In that statement, you would be correct. Let us not forget, however, the beauty and nobility of the branta canadensis, more commonly known as the Canada goose (yes, it's not Canadian, much to my personal dismay) shouldn't be seen as just an average bird. Beautiful brown eyes, glistening brown and white feathers and a honk disguised more like a "heenk" makes this delightful creature a joy to know.

But let me tell you something. From October to February, these noble Canada Geese of doom are migrating to somewhere no one took the time to find on Google. There's a two or three week respite somewhere in early spring, and then the goons decide to fly right back the way they came and use Corban's fields and the marshes across Deer Park Drive. This creates an engaging view from the dining hall during meals, provides a new soundtrack during a morning walk (or run) to class and maybe if you're in archery you imagine bringing the dining hall a few geese for dinner.

Yet as I almost killed a few on my morning drive in as they decided to take flight over the road through a thick bank of mist, I couldn't help remembering the ceaseless honking, the exponential growth of goose nuggets littering the grounds and the potential hazard of being a moving target.

So as we as a community move into goose season, let it be known that these creatures have been made by God also - even though the madness and mayhem following in their V-wake water trail and hanging in their tail feathers may drive us to believe otherwise.