Sam and Sara

I have been talking with my folks allot about their memories of the Aqualand years. I asked them what one of their favorite stories might be. Mom grinned at Dad and said she always loved the wild geese pair. I sort of, slightly remembered something, but could not piece together a clear memory, so asked them to tell the story. Each spring my family would watch for Sam and Sara. Sam and Sara were a mating pair of wild Canada geese. Early in May, Sam and Sara would fly over Aqualand, circling several times lower and lower as if to inspect the place and confirm for themselves that everything was as it should be. Then they moved on out of site. But my father knew where they were headed. The ponds at Aqualand we a flowing series of inter-connected water that flowed from the three lake chain of Irving, Ballard and White Birch lakes. Once through Aqualand, the water continued on through Bob's Lake, fondly called "The Puddle" by our family, and then ran out the far side as White Birch Creek, which would flow all the way to White Sand Lake about three miles down the road. Dad knew that Sam and Sara would head to Irving, the farthest of the three lake chain, where the process of nesting took place- always in the same place and about the same time. In several weeks later, in early summer, excitement would build when Sam and Sara and young ones would begin their journey. Fishermen and the guests at nearby White Birch Lodge would notify us at Aqualand, "Sam and Sara are coming!", as they headed to their "summer place" among the safe ponds and abundant cracked corn of Aqualand. They would herd their brood across all three lakes, down the short stem of White Birch Creek before it spilled into Aqualand, and, having kept informed of their progress, my father would head out to stop any traffic on county K after opening Aqualand's gate, located across the road from the creek. Dad's escort provided safe passage for Sam, Sara and their little ones. Sam and Sara and babies would summer with us, tame and friendly with visitors. But when the winds began to blow each fall, they would get restless, teaching the children to fly bit by bit. Watching as their lurching paddle-running across the ponds soon become short bursts of flight, we knew they would soon be off. One Day, they would magically be airborne. Circling low, then progressively higher, Sam and Sara seemed to wave goodbye, driven by instinct to migrate south. Mom and Dad would watch wistfully, half wishing they could fly away too as the winds blew cold and the snow began to flutter with the still falling leaves. For many years, this ritual of spring continued. Even after Sam and Sara were surely gone, there were always a few wild geese that would land and settle in at Aqualand, becoming a part of our family just for the summer season. I am sure they were the offsrping, born on Irving to Sam and Sara, drawn by instinct back to where they subsequently grew and were safe, warm and well fed until they could fly away each fall. Many animals called Aqualand home and a few, like Sam and Sara chose us. Though they were free to come and go as they wished, they chose us- a testimony to the love and care they trusted to find within the park known as Aqualand.