So here's what I think happened. When they founded the city, a guy was naming all the streets, and another guy was writing them down. They get to the very last street, and the guy naming the streets finally runs out of ideas. He says, "uh......", the transcriber scribbles it down, and hands it off to the messenger boy before the namer figures out what happened. Hey, you got any better ideas?!
This flock of geese was just wandering down the street, they didn't care what else was going on around them. At least they stayed in their own lane, which wasn't a skill a number of Clevelanders shared. Sorry for the low quality of the photo, but I had very little time to get off a shot!
There were vineyards EVERYWHERE once you got into Pennsylvania and New York around the Great Lakes. Just one after another! I need to come back here someday and do some tasting.