The Duckling

It has just become spring in Chicago in the past two weeks. Where I work there is a large park with a large pond called the North Pond.  Lots of animals live in and around the pond, especially birds. So when I heard that all of the ducks have little ducklings right now, I had to see them for myself. 

After work yesterday, I wove through the pond side dirt path with a cool breeze blowing my hair in face watching for a tiny duck or two. I finally spotted a mother duck with tons of tiny companions, but they were all the way across the pond. How I longed for a pair of the crappy kid's binoculars we have in the museum! I was watching their tiny figures dart across the water, while staying safely close to their mama, when I heard a rustle behind me. A small, strange bird stood there with a huge worm hanging out of its mouth. Now, I had been learning a lot of new birds lately, but this was a kind I had never seen before. Then I realized - duh, this was a duckling! But where was its mother?

I scanned the edge of the pond near me, but I didn't see a single brown duck. I turned to look at the duckling. It seemed unconcerned with me, or the the fact that its mother was nowhere in sight, but rather intensely concerned with the worm. It slowly, head jerk by head jerk managed to comsume bits of the worm. Before it could shove the whole invertibrate down, a male squirrel spotted its tasty fair and wanted a bite. As I watched, it crept closer, eyeing the treat. I felt protective of the little ducky, so I said to the squirrel, "Hey now, buster. Shove off!" He eyed me stoically before moving closer to the little duck. "No, sir!" I said more firmly, scooting close. The squirrel didn't budge, but the duck did. It moved into the shallow water to finish its snack. The squirrel persued it. Finally, I had to kick my foot at the squirrel to chase it off. It eyed me thoughtfully, hoping that maybe I, like many of the other human visitors here, had a bit of food to spare. When it realized that not only did I not have any food, but that I found its presence near my little duckling (when had it become mine?) offensive, it scittered off. 

My duckling had finally finished its worm, and just in time! A mother duckling with eleven little duckies was making here way to the duck. The tiny birds shot forward in the water when they spotted a bug or bit of plant. They were so fast and so small! In fact, too small. They didn't look at all like my little duck... They had a prettier pattern on their fuzzy feathers, and were only 2/3s its size. They were wood ducks, while my duckling was a mallard. I wondered if the mother wood duck would care about the difference and stupidly accept its presence as just another baby bird. As I finished the thought, the wood duck open her beak and lunged! My duckling didn't see it coming! She bit his butt, and he quickly swam south.

The squirrel, the wood duck-- I was beginning to feel more and more responsible for protecting this duck. After this much happening to it already, what else might happen to it before it reunites with its parents? I briefly considered catching it, and raising it or giving it to the animal techs at the museum. But no... perhaps I should just let nature work itself out. Why am I responsible for this duck? Natural selection says that if it is stupid enough to wander away from its protective mother, then its genes should be cut off from procreation. But already I have grown to involved to just walk away. At what point should one make the decision to step into someone else's problem and make it their own? I don't have an answer yet. Perhaps a good person doesn't have to ask themselves, they simply dive in, willing to shoulder whatever consequences there may be. But then Iraq comes to mind, and Bush was not "good" to step into that problem. But I digress...

I followed the duck as it swam toward the southern edge of the pond. At this point I was desperately hoping that the mother would show up and end my dilema, so I followed from just close enough to see the duckling. Two male ducks apathetically observed the duckling swim by. It wandered out of the pond again and up a hill. When it started to wander on the bike path, I felt the need to protect it again. I herded it into some bushes where if found yet another huge worm. Who knew there were so many worms by the pond!  As I stood awkwardly on the trail, I'm sure seeming to the people walking by like a total weirdo, the duck ate its worm. It took what seemed like five minutes. I was ready to go home, but the duckling was anchoring me there. If I left, I would be unable to think of anything else, thinking of all the horrible fates that must have befallen my duckling. I searched the water for a female mallard. No such luck. Finally, I noticed a mother and daughter following something in the water. A female mallard! And a male one, and even better, one lone duckling. I eagerly began herding the little duck down to the shore. It's cries of alarm were so quiet I wondered why it even bothered. Once I got it into the water, I realized that this duck too may attack my duckling if she thinks it isn't hers. But the family of ducks is already approaching, and my duck has spotted them too.

My duckling lazily begins swimming towards them, and the family of ducks continues towards us just as lazily. I'm on the edge, wishing fervently that this will work out. When they meet, the mother seems unconcerned. Her duckling doesn't even notice its new rival. I watch for a moment as my duckling swims next to her. Things seem fine. I am elated! I even turn my back and begin walking away. As I look back one more time, I see the male mallard watching my duckling. Will he act like the mother wood duck? The mother mallard opens her beak at him and swims between the duckling and him. Whether that was her duck or not, she seemed determined to accept and protect him, and for that I was incredibly grateful.

Maybe the duckling wandered out looking for worms again, maybe the daddy duck finally drove my duckling off, or maybe I actually reunited a mother and child. I don't know. But the experience was moving, and made me question my involvement in the events of the world. When do you help? And when do you stand by and let the fates take their course?