I was rushing today to escape the rain, and shortened my walk, after being pelted with raindrops.
Then a mother goose stopped me in my tracks and it was as if the rain disappeared.
A family had been feeding the Canadian geese — despite Audubon Society signs warning against this — and out of nowhere, fuzzy ducklings appeared, pecking at the bits floating on the pond.
They were soft and lemon-yellow and peeping away loudly, so I had to pause.
Other walkers stopped too, from youngsters to grandparents. I only had the point-n’-shoot Canon, so I was disappointed not to capture better shots.
These ducklings appeared to be “pre-teens”, and I was disappointed, too, that I had missed the baby stage.
We had seen a male standing guard on the water for weeks, while a female appeared to be brooding in sheltered woods on the island. (They displaced the resident great blue heron, nicknamed Cheney for, well, obvious reasons.) We had not seen their nest, nor any hint of ducklings anywhere.
Yet the food drew her mate, then some mallards — who were quickly chased away by the outraged dad (we assume).
I’m grateful for the arrival of baby ducklings on Forest Creek, and I’m grateful to see their protective parents in a community of wild ducks and geese.
It made my day, rain or not.