Ducks Galore!

Feb. 8, 2005

DUCKS GALORE!

They never cease to amaze me.

Every spring and fall, I have been fascinated by the incessant quacking that broke the stillness of the early morning and evening. I have stood and scanned the fluttering specks as they came out of the south east much like the armadas of aircrafts flying over England or Europe during forties. The tell-tale V formations wavered only so slightly. Sometimes a solitary bird frantically tried to catch up – maybe it was a late riser and was trying to find it’s family.

A few hundred or thousands – it’s difficult to count them – separated from the swarm and circled an area of the Jock River or some other body of water. They glided around as they got closer to water as if scouting for the best places to call home for a few days. Once they had spotted an area they glided over the water and flapped their wings in a backward motion to slow their descent. Then their webbed feet stretched out ahead of them as they elegantly slid onto the water to a full stop. They never quit yaking - maybe they were discussing the tough trip just finished or deciding which fields to scavenge for the next few days stay-over.

Anyone who has seen this phenomenon can’t help but stand and watch and wonder. How do so many thousands of these birds end up here on their journey to God knows where? The answer ‘Mother Nature provides the instinct’ doesn’t really cut it for me; it’s a non-answer, as far as I am concerned.

I have watched by the roadside as the grey-brown-black creatures meandered and pecked over acres and acres of framers’ fields, quietly quacking amongst themselves as they feasted – like a gigantic family picnic.

The creek wound its way southward, its banks proliferated by thickets of tall weeds, fallen dead tree trunks, and lush folliage from healthy shrubs. Hundreds more ducks floated, swam, dipped their heads deep to pick at the nourishing plant and animal life underneath.







How do they know where the best feeding grounds are? How do they communicate?

Mother Nature must have endowed them with super eyesight in addition a keen navigational instinct.

As I am driving by on the way to work in the early morning, I have noticed thousands of ducks lounging around in the winding waters of Jock River. Some are not moving, simply floating there, probably still sleeping – were they up late telling wild stories, trying to outdo each other?

Do they stick together as families? Birds are obviously no different than mammals; they have sex, they have babies, they have to feed them, they have to teach them. We’ve all heard the quacking of ducks – or is it honking? - as they are flying around. If you watch them in the water, you’ll notice that one or two start running on the water, fluttering their wings as they reach to grab air. No sooner have they started to tread water than a half dozen, then another dozen or more get airborne. I wondered, “How do they decided who goes with whom?” The only answer I can come up with is they keep together as families: mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents, etc. They all look alike to me, but I’ll bet they can tell each other apart.

I wonder if God has given birds the powers of mental telepathy? Or do they have throaty sounds that mean something to another duck?

I did some googling on this subject. Dr. Victoria de Ryke of Middlesex University wrote: “ducks, like humans, have regional accents or dialects. Cockney bred ducks in the heart of London, England, prefer louder, brassier quacks, while Cornish ducks from Cornwall, England, communicate in long, relaxed quacks, because of the slower pace of country living.”

I have read somewhere that the female ducks quack is louder than the male – maybe it’s so the baby ducks can tell which parent is calling them. If it’s the mother – the stern parent – they better pay attention. If it’s the father they can simply pretend they didn’t hear because of all the racket around them.

Apparently the male doesn’t have much to do with the upbringing of the little duckies like sitting on the eggs or feeding them. I wonder what the male adults do while all the upbringing is going on? Do they hang out with other males, swapping tall stories of their latest conquest?

Something to think about, eh?