Here’s the story in this picture.
There, at the base of the cypress, Mother Goose. Back, visible through the branches, napping on one foot on the muddy delta, Papa Goose.
As I understand it, once the eggs hatch Mama will waltz the family to a new location, far from the nest-smell that tempts/attracts carnivores.
In this case, the nest location is precarious, between a sidewalk and a lake* that’s really a catchment for runoff, and no spot around this smallish artificial lake is any better than this one. And the lake is surrounded by walls, with no good goose resettlement area. And no island.
Of course, given that the sidewalk often hosts dog-walkers and their usually leashed companions, Mama and Papa may not make it that far in the parenting process.
* The lake is labeled Phase 1 here. I watched a crane operator farther south for a minute, taking a break from excavating somewhere near “Splash Pad” to read, not merely check, his phone. Meanwhile, an ambulatory worker was checking a giant pump; after all, this area is downhill and downstream of the walled lake (funny; there’s actually a Walled Lake, Michigan—see: another story!).