Ducklings
A good day for visitors
Some of our favorite visitors to the moorage only come in the spring and summer months. As the weather turns to sunshine and warmth, we start to see the mating dance of the mallard ducks. Sudden splashing and loud quacking, often accompanied by dramatic flights into the air, signal the change in the season. Once the mallards pair off, we then see them swimming quietly through the water, side by side.
Lucky (or not-so-lucky, depending on their perspective) homeowners will find duck nests in their potted plants. Our neighbors blocked off half of their dock this spring to protect a nesting mother who had opted for a long planter near the water. They checked on her every day, noting about eight eggs in her nest. Then one day, the shells had cracked, and the duck had gone; she and her ducklings had slipped seamlessly into the water before dawn. On another day, her dog opted for the planter too, lying peacefully atop the broken shells.
Once the ducklings arrive, we see them only with their mother. They huddle in tiny clumps of brown and yellow; it’s often hard to tell how many there are when they are brand new and clutched together. The mallard mother either leads the charge or guards the rear of her tiny pack as they swim past or nibble at the algae on the logs.
Sometimes, they are vocal. If they have lost sight of their mother, or if she has headed out for food, we will hear them quacking and swimming in distress. Their tiny voices rise in panic as they search, huddled around the edges of the homes and darting in and out of canals. When their mother arrives, it is almost as if a switch is thrown. The panic ebbs: they circle and swim in peace again.
Sometimes the clutches dwindle in size, as the ducklings disappear to predators over time. Sometimes the clutches stay together in size, and the babies grow into themselves. They pass by in clutches until they don’t. Until the weather starts its slow turn and they are on their own to face the winter months.
We face the winter months too, along with the ducks. Waiting for spring, and the dance to begin again.
