I took the red line to the North and Clyborne stop at 1 in the afternoon. It was the first warm day in a very long time, so I decided to walk to Goose Island rather than take the bus. I walked across the bridge, taking photos along the way. Used my trowel and began to dig in a spot that looked good. I hadn’t noticed the nesting goose to my right in the brush and quickly realized as the male started honking and flapping in my direction. I moved away a couple of feet, this wasn’t good enough for him so I went another 10-15 feet to the North. Every time I began to forget about the goose and dig, it would remind me that I was still unwanted. So, while jumping every few minutes, running away and creeping back, I dug my hole. The recycling truck drivers, noticed that I was there and as pulling in the driveway to the recycling facility slowed down to laugh at me being chased by the goose. Who knows what they guessed I was up to but no one seemed to care. I put my jar of dirt in my bag and as I walked out to the road, the goose honked a last good riddance and I went to get my hair cut.
The history of poor Irish immigrants that first attracted to me to the island. The immigrants squatted on the land in the area around goose island and kept flocks of geese. The destruction and recreation of goose island is also fascinating. Goose Island had been dredged away by 1865.
I chose to dig in the area near the bridge because of its proximity of the recycling plant and the river bank.
The first mayor of Chicago William B. Ogden purchased the are in 1865 and began the Chicago Land Company to excavate clay for brick-making. They dug from South to North until the met the river in the north and created an alternative to the curvy river to the right in 1857.
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