We now have, in a very unsurpassed sight, one lone Canadian duck. I watched her all day. Wondering.
She is either alone, and left, or she is the oncoming messenger, if many land.
All day, she walked back and forth on the waterfall, then walked towards the duck family, Mallard ducks I believe they are, unless they are wood ducks, I do not know.
She spent the day then on the shore…and I just wondered where does she belong.
Was she left behind? Or is she the oncoming messenger of a new flock descending down in flight?
I wish to God I could ask animal behaviorists, or the Audubon Society. I’ve only seen Canadian ducks in mass troupe. So to see her there, I am either worried, or she is a prophet. She looked so beautiful, yet out of the blue. She had nowhere to go. Maybe they will all land there.
It is an airport of ducks there. I watched her, she took off gracefully, in flight,, after all day walking back and forth along the waterfall. I hope she is not a fool, I would have loved her to death, I already do. But what is she doing there? Maybe she got left behind.
Maybe she is staking out the next flight, for the masses of geese who will follow behind her. Maybe she is not lost; I hope she is not.
I have seen flocks and fields of geese, and I watched under the rain, they stand in cornfields, in rest; preparing for their flight.
Here the waterfalls are like an airport of ducks. Somewhere I wish I could go. Or is it join???
Well, my camera doesn’t do justice, but without telephoto lenses, I can’t capture that.
Yet they co-existed, the ducks and this one goose. The other day I saw a crane, but seeing this one lone Canadian goose? She was beautiful, but misbelonged. Is she the one left behind or is she the one who will tell it all, before it happens?
I’ve seen them in fields, about to take off in flight, they take these standing naps, then they fly off in the rain. I had some video footage, but lost it. To just come and go, in flight, rather than traditional airplanes, well, I wish I had that capacity. I think I do, in a way, but you can’t really describe that altogether, or at all. It is a very immaculate precision---where they take many steps to line up—before they take flight in the v formation.
It seems the wood ducks, or what I think are female mallard ducks, have four babies, and then the mother, well they follow her of course, then the male is the lookout. They sleep underneath the rocks, he guards them. He just wants to makes sure I’m not going to walk on with a shotgun and take them. In one instant, I presume, he would be able to fly them off, if he thought I was a sign of danger. I am not. I sit there, all day, captivated, watching them. All they have is each other; the water.
They stand in the cornfields; I have seen them before, like it is an airport of ducks. In the rain, they stood there, in a standing nap. When the one signals them to go, they get ready, and line up. Then in one minute, they’re gone. On the ground, they are forming the v shape already, as if they have been programed to fly together. But that’s not it. On the ground, they are standing by each other, slowly moving towards each other like they’re on a tarmac, preparing for flight. But what I wrote doesn’t describe it. Their instinct to flight is formed on the ground.
Yet they are much better off than we are, they can fly off when they want.
They inch together, after this standing nap, in a cornfield, then when it’s time to go, very quickly, they go. I took some video footage, which was lost, but it’s almost like the something you can’t describe. Cocktails, cocktails, ladies and gents, our captain is about to take full flight. It is the precision they are able to form, (they form their shape on the ground before they take the air, there is much sound too, a lot of squawking) on this cornfield, even in the rain, they’re inching together, without even a sound, then in one instant, their captain, flies them up.
They take their rest in the lakes; in the cornfields. And after that, they are gone.
