Make Way for Ducklings

 

I counted the ducklings again this morning. Despite the possibility of heart-plummeting disappointment, I can't help myself. Every time the Muscovy mother duck wanders into view I stop whatever I am doing and count the ducklings as they scurry to catch up to their mama. Although their mama is not what I could call conventionally attractive, the ducklings sure are, with their brown and yellow markings and fluff ball looks. 

When they hatched a few weeks ago there were thirteen adorable little ones. This morning there are ten. Their numbers have been holding strong at ten for several days now, which I count as a good omen. Last year, their numbers went from a solid dozen down to two remaining ducklings by the time they were ready to go off on their own. They do live in the wilds of this suburban environment where birds of prey and unwitting humans also roam. This morning I saw them in the lawn near the lagoon, but other days I have seen them basking in a puddle in the middle of our parking lot - a far less safe place for them to wash up.

My friend and I saw them searching for tasty morsels amidst the foliage surrounding the pool a few weeks ago, and while we thought they were pretty darn cute, I have overheard other folks comment on their presence in far less complimentary ways. One evening a duckling fell into the pool and had to be rescued by a by-passer with the pool's skimming net. Suffice it to say that it makes me nervous when the ducklings so blatantly avail themselves of the condo features meant for human enjoyment.

A few years ago a wildlife specialist was hired to capture the whole bunch, mama and ducklings, in order to relocate them further from human habitation, but that ploy obviously did not have a lasting effect. And this year, no one seems to be making noises to do the same, or perhaps I am just not privy to those conversations.

These ducklings are such a sign of the season, a sign of Spring and a sign of hope. Easter cards and decorations celebrate their hopeful cuteness. It breaks my heart a little, when my headcount shows that another duckling is missing, but I can't seem to stop myself. I feel like I am one of their protectors, somehow. When I count them, I send blessings to them, along with prayers that they make their way safely through another round of the sun. It is the least I can do, in gratitude for their presence, for their perseverance in the face of the enormous odds stacked against them in this environment that is becoming increasingly inhospitable to all forms of life. Their perseverance, their presence, is just the sign of hope I was looking for today.