I was sorely tempted to range beyond the boundaries of my property and head to the broad, open wetland that is the heart of Hartley Nature Center. The nature center is across my neighbor’s property, a five minute walk. I was relishing the descriptive possibilities, the mounded beaver dam, the bent and swaying grass, the meandering stream. The open and expansive wetland, ringed by hills, gives one the feeling of truly being away from it all.
But then I saw the ducks. They waddled to the edge of our yard, as they have the past two springs, and sat down, webbed feet disappearing beneath them. Mallards. The male with a striking green head, yellow beak, brown breast, and mottled white body. The female, slightly drabber with a sort of camouflaged array of brown feathers. Every year they herald the true arrival of spring, finding a quiet corner of our property to sit and rest.
After a few minutes they waddled back off into the brush. My boys and I decided to look for them. Soren, age 5, insisted on bringing his spear—a long wooden branch with a fork duct taped to the end (long story), even though I implored him that we were just out to look at the birds, not to disturb (or kill) them. We ducked around our pitched and leaning garage, as stealthily as we could. Gingerly parting thorny plants, we came upon the stagnant little pool, and there they were.
‘Shhhhhhhh’, Soren whispered. Eli pointed wildly, but miraculously did not make a sound. We hunched down to get a better look. They were within ten feet of us. The female’s head was rooting about underwater, in search of food. The male, its luminous green head turning back and forth, was keeping watch.
The three of us watched, silent and transfixed. What an odd little patch of the earth to hunker down in, I thought. The stagnant water is barely ten feet around, tucked behind a decaying garage, surrounded by brambles. Given the wetland of the Nature Center close by, our little swamp seemed like a sub-par choice. But they have claimed it as their own, as have we.
As we padded silently away, Soren turned to look back. Overcome with the pent up silence, he finally gave in to his impulses. He advanced a few steps towards the swamp and let out a loud whoop. The ducks took to the air and flew away.
2 comments:
Tom, I have truly enjoyed reading your blog. I hope you keep it going. I am envious...really envious....of the place where you live. I say that in the nicest way. I hope to visit sometime in the future.
I'm glad that you didn't wander over to the wetland. What you found, right here in your own place, was something more meaningful, in those moments. I hope you'll keep this up too - I would miss learning about the northern spaces.
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