greybeard
Well-known member
The strangest thing happened late today...
A duck of some kind showed up here, right on the fenceline between my yard and the National Forest. I do not know what kind except that it isn't a Muscovy (wrong kind of bill and head) .
I'm in the kitchen seasoning a pot of pinto beans, as my wife has always been bereft of seasoning ability when it comes to beans. (too much salt and not enough cayenne or cumin powder) Wife calls out from the front porch that there's a duck outside. Now that's not terribly unusual as we usually get a few waterfowl come thru this time of year (usually some kind of yankee geese or Meskin whistlers, and one fall, a whole herd of little wood duck ducklings came pouring out of the forest, making an unorganized dash for the pond about 200 yards away. Not many survived the migration due to the 2 'barn' cats and once in the pond, the bass and resident alligator feasted on the rest like it was the last aquatic supper.)
So I grab the camera, go out on the porch and she who must be obeyed points out this whiteish/blue object about at the limit of what my ancient eyes can see so I pull on my boots, lock the dog up on the porch and amble out there, about 100 ft away. It's just sitting there on the edge of what we call 'the powerline road' which is a utility easement that doubles for our private road. (it's also the local killing field for numerous nocturnal denizens of the night like owls, coons and an occasional possum) Wife yells out and informs me that she is going to go take a nap and leaves the duck problem to me alone. surprise surprise...
It then waddles under the 4 wire barbed wire fence, just out of my reach in the govt land, so
I find a place where one of the 50 year old posts has rotted away and climb thru between the 3rd and 4th wire, barely. Meanwhile, ducky is slowly but inexorably moving deeper into the forest. I have to walk around some brushy tanglement but catch up with it in short order.
I mentally observe that it's life expectancy in the national forest is limited at best and decide to try to get it down to the pond or one of the shallow forks of said pond where it can at least be in it's own element. I pick up a stick about 4 feet long and start goading it back from whence it came but it was slow going. It would get behind a tree, and as I had to go around the tree, it would simply go around the back side of the tree and begin walking back into the forest. Smart little rascal...
I finally got it out into a bit of clearing and just short of the fence, it encountered it's own tangle of fallen limbs and it's short legs can't climb over them, so I just reach down and pick the feathery thing up and start for the fence. Upon arriving, I realize, I can't get back thru the wires with the duck in my hands so I sat it down on the outside of the fence while I clamber thru the wires. In my haste, I get the back of my good shirt hung on a barb on the 4th wire, manage to get it loose and get thru and when I straighten up, realize the tail of my shirt was hung on the lower wires, leaving it's signature 'L' shaped tear about 3'long on a good Ruddock's western shirt. Damn duck.
I then look over where I had left the duck and wryly see it has re-entered the forest while I was trying to get free of the barbs. Back in I go, get it back thru the fence and me a bit more quickly follow since I no longer had to worry about ruining a shirt. Me with my stick, and it with it's webbed feet cross the road and it stopped a few seconds to nibble some grass and then walked down into the muddy ditch along the road, then laterally over to a little pool of water left over from Saturday's rain. Stuck it's head down into the water, did that duck thing where they shake their head back and forth rapidly, making a bubbly noise, and walked back up onto the grass bank alongside little muddy.
Everything this side of the fence hadn't taken a full 60 seconds, but the next 5 seconds were inexplicable in nature. Duck, without so much as a thank you, or 'by your leave' , laid down on it's belly, stretched both wings straight out like the North and South points of a compass, it's bill pointed due West and began violently shaking from wing tip to wing tip and bill to tail. I'm thinking "WTF duck, are you going to lay an egg now?"
No sir. It curled it's head back just a little, made one more quiver, pointed it's bill back toward the setting sun and turned graveyard dead right there in front of me. (that ungrateful little wretch..)
anyone know what duck species this is?
I retired to the porch to digest what had just happened. Briefly considered plucking the unlucky duck, gutting it and saving it for Thanksgiving, but unsure of what (a new bird flu?) had caused it's untimely demise, I decided to just bury it.
Now where was the last place I used a shovel? oh yeah, there it is, still caked with the clay I was digging out from around and under the back steps. It's now dried harder than the descriptive words on it's handle. 'tempered steel'
So, I scrape it off with another shovel and dig the hole near the feathered corpse, and it promptly filled 1/2 way up with ground water. "Fitting end for a troublesome waterfowl" I think.
So, how was yall's day?
A duck of some kind showed up here, right on the fenceline between my yard and the National Forest. I do not know what kind except that it isn't a Muscovy (wrong kind of bill and head) .
I'm in the kitchen seasoning a pot of pinto beans, as my wife has always been bereft of seasoning ability when it comes to beans. (too much salt and not enough cayenne or cumin powder) Wife calls out from the front porch that there's a duck outside. Now that's not terribly unusual as we usually get a few waterfowl come thru this time of year (usually some kind of yankee geese or Meskin whistlers, and one fall, a whole herd of little wood duck ducklings came pouring out of the forest, making an unorganized dash for the pond about 200 yards away. Not many survived the migration due to the 2 'barn' cats and once in the pond, the bass and resident alligator feasted on the rest like it was the last aquatic supper.)
So I grab the camera, go out on the porch and she who must be obeyed points out this whiteish/blue object about at the limit of what my ancient eyes can see so I pull on my boots, lock the dog up on the porch and amble out there, about 100 ft away. It's just sitting there on the edge of what we call 'the powerline road' which is a utility easement that doubles for our private road. (it's also the local killing field for numerous nocturnal denizens of the night like owls, coons and an occasional possum) Wife yells out and informs me that she is going to go take a nap and leaves the duck problem to me alone. surprise surprise...
It then waddles under the 4 wire barbed wire fence, just out of my reach in the govt land, so
I find a place where one of the 50 year old posts has rotted away and climb thru between the 3rd and 4th wire, barely. Meanwhile, ducky is slowly but inexorably moving deeper into the forest. I have to walk around some brushy tanglement but catch up with it in short order.
I mentally observe that it's life expectancy in the national forest is limited at best and decide to try to get it down to the pond or one of the shallow forks of said pond where it can at least be in it's own element. I pick up a stick about 4 feet long and start goading it back from whence it came but it was slow going. It would get behind a tree, and as I had to go around the tree, it would simply go around the back side of the tree and begin walking back into the forest. Smart little rascal...
I finally got it out into a bit of clearing and just short of the fence, it encountered it's own tangle of fallen limbs and it's short legs can't climb over them, so I just reach down and pick the feathery thing up and start for the fence. Upon arriving, I realize, I can't get back thru the wires with the duck in my hands so I sat it down on the outside of the fence while I clamber thru the wires. In my haste, I get the back of my good shirt hung on a barb on the 4th wire, manage to get it loose and get thru and when I straighten up, realize the tail of my shirt was hung on the lower wires, leaving it's signature 'L' shaped tear about 3'long on a good Ruddock's western shirt. Damn duck.
I then look over where I had left the duck and wryly see it has re-entered the forest while I was trying to get free of the barbs. Back in I go, get it back thru the fence and me a bit more quickly follow since I no longer had to worry about ruining a shirt. Me with my stick, and it with it's webbed feet cross the road and it stopped a few seconds to nibble some grass and then walked down into the muddy ditch along the road, then laterally over to a little pool of water left over from Saturday's rain. Stuck it's head down into the water, did that duck thing where they shake their head back and forth rapidly, making a bubbly noise, and walked back up onto the grass bank alongside little muddy.
Everything this side of the fence hadn't taken a full 60 seconds, but the next 5 seconds were inexplicable in nature. Duck, without so much as a thank you, or 'by your leave' , laid down on it's belly, stretched both wings straight out like the North and South points of a compass, it's bill pointed due West and began violently shaking from wing tip to wing tip and bill to tail. I'm thinking "WTF duck, are you going to lay an egg now?"
No sir. It curled it's head back just a little, made one more quiver, pointed it's bill back toward the setting sun and turned graveyard dead right there in front of me. (that ungrateful little wretch..)
anyone know what duck species this is?
I retired to the porch to digest what had just happened. Briefly considered plucking the unlucky duck, gutting it and saving it for Thanksgiving, but unsure of what (a new bird flu?) had caused it's untimely demise, I decided to just bury it.
Now where was the last place I used a shovel? oh yeah, there it is, still caked with the clay I was digging out from around and under the back steps. It's now dried harder than the descriptive words on it's handle. 'tempered steel'
So, I scrape it off with another shovel and dig the hole near the feathered corpse, and it promptly filled 1/2 way up with ground water. "Fitting end for a troublesome waterfowl" I think.
So, how was yall's day?
