The greater white-fronted goose (Anser albifrons) is a species of goose in the family Anatidae. It is closely related to the lesser white-fronted goose, which is smaller. The greater white-fronted goose is migratory, breeding in northern Canada, Alaska, Greenland and Russia, and winters farther south in North America, Europe and Asia. The greater white-fronted goose has a length of 64 to 81 cm (25 to 32 in), a wingspan of 130 to 165 cm (51 to 65 in), and a mass of 1.93 to 3.31 kg (4 lb 4 oz to 7 lb 5 oz). Males are typically larger in size, and both sexes are similar in appearance – greyish brown with light grey breasts dappled with dark brown to black blotches and bars. Both males and females also have a pinkish bill, and orange legs and feet. This greater white-fronted goose was photographed in flight in the Central Valley of the US state of California.Photograph credit: Frank Schulenburg
... that Wigwam(pictured) formed four days before their first concert?
... that a 1920s reviewer considered Hammond's Hard Lines "dangerously experimental ground for boys' fiction"?
... that Eddie Canales set up nearly 200 water stations along an area of the US–Mexico border to save the lives of undocumented immigrants?
... that before his victory at the 1128 Battle of Axspoele, William Clito ordered his knights to cut their hair and remove opulent clothing as a sign of penance?
... that Canadian punk rock musician Talli Osborne had only briefly spoken to the frontman of NOFX before the band wrote a song about her?
... that a red light in the corner bay window of the Ansorge Hotel told rumrunners of revenue men in town?
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It is so terribly sad that I have to explain that the above is a JOKE
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!