They started off as yellow bundles of joy, chasing delightfully up and down the garden with their stubby wings outstretched.
Then they grew into elegant white creatures, quite regal. 'Better than swans!' we cried and no-one would suggest the christmas feast that they had initially been intended for.
|The geese in summer|
Now though, having escaped pre-christmas slaughter, these three lovely creatures have become ferocious and hissing mad things, stalking and running down anyone who dares leave the safety of the terrace.
|Winter geese; I risked life and limb for this picture.|
In their youth they were known as qui, quo and qua. Now they are just 'i stronzi'.
Their days may be numbered. Three baked geese seems like quite a dinner party, I'm thinking of a house filled with down pillows.