Mallard Jacuzzi, February 9, 2014 (Photo: Geo Davis)
As Lake Champlain freezes and thaws and freezes again, trying to create a seamless skateable expanse between the Adirondack Coast and Vermont, Rosslyn’s boathouse bubbler offers the wild ducks welcome refuge. It’s a veritable mallard jacuzzi! Or a bald eagle buffet? The shrewd raptors observe from the trees nearby, waiting…
Ducks at Dawn on Icy Lake
The sounds and sight of our wild duck neighbors enjoying the midwinter sunrise is mesmerizingly agreeable. Hypnotic even. So the sudden disruption of a predator upsetting this morning meditation is unsettling to say the least. But the bald eagle buffet is a fact of nature, right? And so I resign myself to the bittersweet battle at work in these bucolic moments.
Perhaps this video captures the mallard jacuzzi magic.
A cooold jacuzzi, but it’s the best match for these cold weather acclimated fowl. An icy bubble path to jumpstart the day (and keep these mallards alert to threats lurking nearby…)
Mallard Jacuzzi or Bald Eagle Buffet
While others have witnessed the baldies snatching confit de canard from the frigid “pond” in front of Rosslyn’s boathouse, I’ve never actually experienced it myself. But I’m keeping an eye out from my office, wondering if this will be the newest Rosslyn safari.
I’ve been quick to admit my fascination with the ongoing Rosslyn safari. Predation up close and personal from the comfort of my breakfast table! But this week, I had a change of heart…
[Note: This multimedia story was originally assembled and published on Storify.com (which has sadly ceased to exist, so you’ve been spared the carnage!) Here is the previous related post, “Fox & Squirrel“.]
Decrypting Bird Tracks in Snow: Mallard (Photo: virtualDavis)
I don’t recall whether or not I was fascinated with animal and bird tracks in snow as a child, but I suspect I was. I am now… (Fox Tracks, Foxtrot & X-Country Skiing)
It wasn’t until my nephews (now teenagers but still “pocket sized” then) began asking me to identify bird tracks in snow, four legged critter tracks on muddy paths, and snake trails on the sand that I rediscovered how exciting it is to decipher locomotive narratives on the ground. That was more than a decade ago. The boys’ interests have wandered from bird tracks in snow to life’s adventures, but I’m still wandering around looking at the ground trying to figure out what passed where. And when. And why.
I’ve collected a backlog of track photos, mostly shot on a mobile phone because it’s often all I have along. I’m not sure I’ll manage to ever aggregate all of the photos in any comprehensive and useful manner, but I will pass along some of them as fancy strikes.
Most of my recent photos of bird tracks in snow have been shot in Rosslyn’s back meadows and woods during lunchtime cross country ski and snowshoe outings, but that image of the mallard tracks comes from the lawn right outside the “morning room” where I eat breakfast. Susan has become an avid bird feeder, and this winter an endless parade of mallards have joined the daily buffet. There’s something lighthearted, even happy about meandering duck prints!
Wing Prints in Snow
Less lighthearted but far more dramatic are the sort of wing prints visible in the photograph below which was captured by friend and Adirondack Coast neighbor, Kim Rielly.
Often a snow crater and feather printed like that will intercept the tracks of a squirrel or a rabbit. Sometimes a drip or two or scarlet in the snow to heighten the drama. But the story told by these bird tracks in the snow is more upbeat (and likely has a happier ending.)
Decrypting Bird Tracks in Snow: Grouse Hole (Credit: Kim Rielly)
Before we reached the actual trail, we stopped to see a great example of a “grouse hole”. The grouse entered the deep snow for shelter, and created the hole and accompanying wing marks in the snow when it emerged. Since the snow was so new, this must have been a recent rest stop for the bird. The hole itself had evidence of some feathers and “sawdust” looking stuff; positive clues. ~ Kim Rielly (Lake Champlain Region)
I learned to spot these grouse holes a few winters ago during a guided snowshoe trek, and I’ve been looking for the tell-tale “sawdust” (grouse scat) ever since. Not the coziest place to spend the night for those of us who depend on lasagna layered synthetic materials to stay warm and dry, but a downy grouse might well consider this the perfect winter’s repose!
Really… Okay, am I giving away too much? Probably. That’s the way of the storyteller!
Make Way for Ducklings cover via Amazon
There was something about those illustrations — simple unselfconscious line drawings halfway between representational sketches and cartoons — that captivated me, that compelled me to try and draw ducklings wandering and swimming. And the tidy little tale about a family of country mallards unfortunately (serendipitously?) hatching and growing up in obviously inhospitable urban Boston.
A quirky story with a dark edge and a lighthearted plot.
So yesterday when Lorri and Carmen — lovely local ladies planting lilies behind Rosslyn’s carriage barn — called to me, I came running with my camera. I had to witness the mother mallard and her entourage of well behaved ducklings, Lorri urged. “Come quickly. They’re almost down to the driveway.”
The duck family (absent father) had appeared suddenly in the meadow near them, and were heading toward the house. I set out to intercept them on the driveway to see if I could shoot a short bit of video before they startled and deviated course.
Sure enough, as I walked up the shaded back driveway I saw the parade bound directly toward me. I turned on the camera and waited, wondering how close they would come before getting nervous and retreating. But this beautiful, proud and totally undaunted momma duck walked right up to me with her parade of ten fuzzy ducklings. Then right past and on toward Lake Champlain. I followed and played crossing guard to make sure that all eleven made it across NYS Route 22, and before long they were all paddling away on the still flooded lake!
That matriarch had promised her brood a swim in the lake, and she was going to deliver on that promise come flood, gawking homeowner or speeding pickup trucks. And deliver she did. My rough video footage, “Ducklings on Parade” only hints at the confidence and determination of the momma mallard.
Cute. Darling. Nostalgic. Right? Wrong! Well, at least partly wrong. Sure, I’m human, and these fuzzy peeps did instantly soften the edges of an otherwise rough week. But cute, darling and nostalgic is only part of the equation. What, there’s more? Oh, yes, there’s more. There’s irony!
You see, over the last year or two I’ve gotten excited about the idea of raising ducks. I did some research, found a catalog, ogled the pictures, read the descriptions, circled my favorites and told me wife. Emergency brake! “What? Raise ducklings so the coyotes and foxes can eat them? Are you crazy?”
Needless to say, she’s not too keen on the idea. There’ve been a couple of heated conversations. I’ve demurred but repressed the desire. At least for now.
So my first thought as these eager swimmers paraded off to Lake Champlain was, my ducklings! Funny how things work out…
