Today however, the kids were nowhere to be seen when I pulled up even with the sand pit. Usually, they come army crawling out at me when I get to this point, and try to surprise attack me, but for once, they weren't in their normal spot.
I kept walking and as I rounded the equipment shed, I discovered my missing children. They were lying flat out on the ground on their bellies, all in a row, peering over the edge of a small retaining wall. And, most surprisingly, they were completely silent. Something BIG was on the other side of that wall.
I tiptoed up behind them, and tried to peek over their heads to see what had so captured their attention. Instead, I was immediately and furiously hushed and shushed by the flailing of arms and other overly dramatic gestures. Once they were reassured that I wasn't about to pull a flying ninja move over the top of them, they made room for me. I peeked over the ledge and discovered some of nature's best camouflage.

A quietly nesting momma duck.
At first, we thought she must be sitting on spoiled eggs. It's pretty late in the season for a duck to still be nesting, we thought. How sad for her. So we watched her for a couple of days, worried that she was so stoically sitting on her little pile of eggs, all alone. She calmly and quietly watched us back, never once budging off her carefully constructed nest of dirt, grass, and her own downy feathers.
We learned that the average female mallard can lay anywhere between one and thirteen eggs, and that she sits on her eggs for almost a month before they hatch. This particular lady was also in a rather unusual spot as well, considering that there was no open water anywhere nearby. But after a little more research, we discovered that because ducks nest on the ground, they sometimes choose to nest away from the water. And if you're looking for somewhere high and dry, the track behind the school definitely qualifies.
So we kept watch over the little mallard for a few days, and all the while I talked about the circle of life, and nature, and balance. But as I was really gearing up to launch into the biggest nature talk of all, the one about how some creatures don't make it and how all things must die, something happened. We were out for our walk for the day, at the end of it, and we had just stopped in front of the Duck Tree, as we'd been calling it, and suddenly Big Guy said, "Mom, sshhh! Do you hear that?"
We all hushed. And instead of hearing me talk about death, we got to listen to the tiny little peep, peep, peeps of newly hatched baby mallard chicks. If you look carefully at that picture above, you can even see one of the little newly hatched chicks just peeking out from between two of the eggs. We didn't stay long. We didn't want to stress the new mom. We decided to check back the next day.
But the next day, we learned yet another ducky fact. Ducklings are ready to leave the nest as soon as thirteen hours after hatching.
We don't know where they went, but we are pretty sure those ducklings are in really good hands, er, webbed feet.Just to clarify, these are not the ducks we found, but the kids felt like everyone would want to see a picture of what they probably looked like as they went off on their big trek to the water.
No comments:
Post a Comment