Duck Drama

Webster, MA -- June 2, 2009

This entry is for my sons, who for some reason have turned out to be duck fanciers. Must have been all those stops in lovely Mystic, Connecticut, as we made our 400 mile treks from Massachusetts to our home in Virginia through their growing years. Mystic is a charming seaside village with beautiful scenery, a lovely little village of interesting shops and galleries, and the historical sailing ship, the Charles W. Morgan.

But for Tim, Brad, & Greg, Mystic was famous not for these features, but for the duck pond full of animated ducklings that never failed to perform, please, and delight, as chortling tourists tossed crackers and bread and popcorn in terrible abundance into the duck pool.

Today's drama, however, took place not at a tourist haven but at quiet Memorial Beach, along the banks of Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg. This lake has the distinction of carrying the longest name for a geographical feature in the United States. Formerly home to the Nipmuck Indians, the lake -- according to local lore -- was named to mean You fish on your side, I fish on my side, and nobody fish in the middle (Note: the veracity of this translation has been hotly contested).

No longer home to the natives who were here first, the lake now is no longer even home to the majority of local residents, except for the tiny strip of public beach, designated as a "memorial" to World War II veterans. The rest of the lakefront has been divided up into small expensive parcels, available only to the very wealthy, while the mostly blue-collar townspeople are forced to squeeze into the small bit of beach that still belongs to the town.

But on this mild morning in early June, we have the beach practically to ourselves. We take a side-trip through the woods, along a spit that separates the lake proper from a swampy inlet, and cross a foot bridge that runs over that inlet.

There, we stand witness to an emerging drama. The water is covered with hundreds of little round lily pads popping with long-necked yellow lily blossoms. With delight, we inhale the spicy fresh fragrance of the flora and fauna; we tune in to the humorous sound of the bullfrogs; and we delight in the sight of a graceful mama duck gliding seemingly effortlessly through the calm waters. She's a lovely sight, her dignified but drab brown and white feathers accessorized by feathers of white and royal blue (same shade of blue as my car) which she keeps deftly hidden while blending in with the drab colors atop the lake. Also nearly hidden from sight by their clever camouflage are three little brown mounds which turn out to be her downy ducklings. They paddle and glide behind her, now aligned in a perfect little parade behind mama, then separating to do their duty to find tiny morsels of lunch on and among the lilies.

Suddenly, mama duck's calm demeanor is upset. The beautiful mallard of teal iridescence, which we had just been admiring on the footbridge, has dived into the water and is suddenly an intruder on this scene of domestic duck tranquility. Suddenly, he is chasing mama duck, who takes quick and rather frantic flight, leaving her three little ones to continue to find their lunch.

Lurking in the dark waters nearby is another female duck, who comes close to the trio of babies but looks the other way, as if disinterested in them as well as the whole drama before her.

Time and again, mama duck rejoins her little charges, only to be chased repeatedly by the obnoxious mallard. Two of the wee ones mind their own business, looking for snacks but not looking for trouble. A precocious third, however, seems to understand that something is amiss, and each time the mallard meanie starts in mama's direction, the Cautious Quacker flaps his tiny webbed feet as fast as he can, to go join or warn his mom.

Like so many things, we never did learn the intentions of the aggressor, the thoughts of the oppressed, or the outcome of this drama. When we returned to the scene two days later, there was a whole new set of ducks and geese, with different issues of their own.