I love the way Vermonters handle their business.

I love the way Vermonters handle their business.

We're staying in a little house on a picturesque lake where everything is wonderful except for one tiny detail: the geese.

Each morning at sunrise, hundreds of geese come flocking to the lake. They hiss and honk and carry on like a bunch of people waiting for Monday morning traffic court to start, and it completely muddles the otherwise pristine Northeastern silence.

So this morning, I hear this boat starting up at one end of the lake. Curious, since I haven't heard the sound of a gasoline engine of any sort out here in the three days since we first arrived, I step outside to see what's going on.

This boat with a weird Duck Dynasty looking camouflage cover over it comes into view, slows down in the middle of the geese, and out pops these two gun barrels at 45-degrees, port side and starboard.

BLAM chikchik BLAM chikchik BLAM BLAM BLAM!!

Geese rise up out of the water like black smoke from an explosion.

BLAM BLAM BLAM!!

The lake looks like it has a big 1000-ft wide watery hole in the middle of what's otherwise... well, a bunch of geese swimming around. The guns retreat, the dingy revs up and goes a little farther into the lake.

Rinse and repeat -- BLAM chickchik BLAM BLAM BLAM!! This goes on for about 5 more minutes until they've cleared the whole lake of geese.

Once they've reached the end of the lake, they turn around and head slowly back. When they pass by me, I notice they're peeking out from under their cover just well enough to see where they're going. They look over at me standing on the dock.

I raise my coffee mug and say, "Thank you!"

They nod, turn to look down the lake and head off into the sunrise from whence they came.

A blanket of dewy peace peace falls over the land and water. And I determine I could get along just fine here.