😳Is this DUCKLING in DANGER?😳

Last year, this enormous brown duck (an escapee from a meat farm) hatched out an incredible NINE babies, all different colors from bright yellow to mottled brown. She must have mated with a wild mallard, but sadly, I only saw the babies twice, then they disappeared, likely picked off by crows and gulls. This year I was surprised to find her with ONE duckling, bright yellow, which means it's an easy target. Nature can be so sad. We've followed ducks like Bosley and Belinda, escapees from barnyards, but they always seem to die due to predators. Domestic ducks don't have the wild instincts of mallards, and don't move fast enough. This may be my only chance to see this little fluffball.

💚BUTTS UP! Dabbling, Dunking Ducks

Here at the duck park, the mallards are endlessly entertaining. Here a handsome drake turns himself upside-down, paddling furiously while he forages around in the muck. 

💗🌞My Big Fat Brown Duck has NINE BABIES!🌞💗

I've been following this duck for months now, and it always stood out from the flock due to its immense size and gorgeous chocolate-brown colour. Then it disappeared for quite a while, only to resurface with NINE baby ducklings! This was unlike any brood I'd ever seen before, because they were several different colours, from mottled-brown to dark brown with a yellow breast, to solid yellow. This tends to say they're hybrids, meaning My Big Fat Brown Duck must have mated with a mallard drake. I want to follow the development of this brood, from newly-hatched (these guys were likely only a week or so old) to maturity. This was one of the more magical finds on the shores of Lake LaFarge, which we've nicknamed The Duck Park. I believe this duck is a khaki Campbell, a large, meaty breed raised for human consumption. Our duck got out of there just in time to avoid being on someone's dinner plate.

Ducks on a Glassy Lake

A glorious spring day on Lake Lafarge.

MY BIG FAT BROWN DUCK: Duckies and Wigeons and Coots, OH MY!

I don't know how I would have survived the long, dark, dry portage of the pandemic without my birds. Of course they're not "my" birds - not anyone's - which is one of the things I love about them. Though it's different each time, with a different mix even in the same locations, birds are not random. They move where the food is, drawn by low water levels which don't require as much work to get at the really good gunk that they eat. The Big  Fat Brown Duck, now known as Bruno, almost replaces my beloved Bosley and Belinda - though not quite. And he may indeed end up in the same place, killed by a predator, because he lacks the wild instincts that drive the birds away from danger and towards FOOD and shelter. I've been spotting him in the mallard flock for a couple of years now, and it's as if he has his own YouTube fans now, with WAY more views than I used to get. I am virtually certain he or she is a specimen of the domestic meat-raised duck called the Khaki Campbell. Seeing Bruno on such a consistent basis is gratifying, but I know I'd follow my birds anyway, because they have kept me more-or-less sane during an insane time. Thank you, Bruno.

Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

🦆A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A DUCK🦆

My nature walks keep me sane, or at least as sane as I can expect to be in these horrific times. I love extreme closeups of mallards, as they seem to have actual facial expressions. Sometimes they're not too happy I'm there, though the zoom lens makes it look as if I am much closer than I am.

Ducks just wanna have fun

BOSLEY ATTACKS!

Bosley is the handsome but mysterious hybrid duck we've been following for several years on our walks around Como Lake. He's almost always there, in a little flock of three, along with his girl friend Belinda and a mallard drake we call Drake. Though it's difficult to tell without a lot of ornithological knowledge, Bosley is most likely a hybrid of mallard and magpie duck, which is a goose-sized domestic duck with black-and-white or brown-and-white patches. Magpie ducks are raised for their meat, which may explain why Bosley's ancestors saw fit to escape.

Belinda is a bit of a mystery. She appeared last spring, still a juvenile and more mottled than patchy. She has grown into a fatly gorgeous thing with who-knows-what bloodlines, though with her size and meatiness (sorry, Belinda), it's likely she also carries domestic duck genes. It's a fine romance.

So our little flock of three is swimming peacefully around, when suddenly - ! Well, you'll just have to watch the video. Now that I see it more rationally, I realize that the other party may have done the attacking. It's easy to misinterpret what you see in nature, and even easier to interfere for your own misguided purposes.

The conservationists would have us put the orphaned baby moose back in the woods to fend for itself, though it probably won't last 24 hours. What is the alternative? A big, dumb, tame moose, which is one more small step towards extinction for a species which has become habituated. I won't get into the anguish of what is happening to wild habitat - it's the kind of thing I can't afford to let myself think about too much. Sad how small my thought world is becoming. All those condos, where there used to be green space.

Duck divers: hooded mergansers in Como Lake

Stunning wildlife videos just fall into my lap these days, and it's mid-winter! I've only ever seen these hooded mergansers as white blobs in the distance, too far away to film. Now for some reason they are swimming much closer to shore. We also see cormorants, sea birds which you almost never see in freshwater lakes, though the fact this lake is stocked with fish might have something to do with it. 

Hybrid lovers

Hot pursuit

Bosley and Belinda, the Romeo and Juliet of Como Lake, get a lot of play on my YouTube channel. I've started editing the videos and setting them to music (though this one isn't - I didn't want to drown out the quacks and splashes). Belinda suddenly appeared in the spring, a medium-sized duck who was obviously a hybrid, with her cocoa-brown-and-white feathers, green bill and curlicue tail. But she has grown to near-gargantuan proportions, dwarfing even her goose-sized boy friend, Bosley. Our hope is that these two will stay together and produce ducklings in the spring. Oh joy - ducklings from Bosley and Belinda! I'd be tempted to take one home with me. But I won't.

This is a mini-drama in which Belinda decides she needs a little "me time", and swims off in a distant direction. It takes Bosley a minute to wonder where she is, but then he literally runs to the water and takes off after her.

Love.

A duck's ass

There was this duck, see, and all I could see was its ass. It went on that way for a long time, so I filmed some of it. The duck's feet were coming right up out of the water, a strange sight, so its bill must have been touching the lake bottom. As humourous as all this is, it's a sign of something not-so-funny, and we all know what it is. Climate change affects everything, from falling lake levels to tropical storms, not to mention forest fires. We separate them out, push them away from us - because don't we have to laugh, once in a while? Especially when a duck keeps showing its ass.

Our miracle duck has found a mate!

Bosley, the magpie duck/mallard hybrid of Como Lake, has had an interesting summer. We almost always see this handsome, friendly guy dabbling along the shore or waddling around, fat as a goose. But then he disappeared for weeks, and we were very worried. Finally we saw him frantically running towards the lake, a mallard drake in hot pursuit. We were a bit shocked, but thought, well, maybe Bosley is a Boslina. Another time, we saw him chilling in the reeds with what looked like the same drake. What was going on?

Then the other day, an amazing development: Bosley appears with a completely different duck, which also looks like a hybrid. She (for it must be a she) is white with creamy-tan markings, a cocoa-brown head and neck, and a white ring where a mallard's neck-ring would be. She has the ruffly wing-feathers and tail-curlicue of a magpie duck, and her long bill, very strangely, is green.

Trust Bosley to pick a true exotic. I don't know if these two will produce young, but I hope so. Oddly enough, a lone male mallard is still hanging around with them, and I can't tell if it's the same one as before.

A threesome? What can it mean?

Duckling challenge!

I think this is one of the best videos I've taken. Seven ducklings were faced with an impossible challenge, but somehow managed to brave it and win. 

This has been a tremendous year for ducklings and goslings, and new batches/hatches are still appearing. Many of the goslings are now plug-ugly, in that awkward middling stage, looking like plucked chickens on stilts. You can see where the Ugly Duckling story came from, for swan cygnets are probably much the same, with a lumpy, ungainly, protracted adolescence. 

Swans may look pretty, but their temperaments are quite ugly, worse than the Canada goose with its haughty stares, stiff necks and hisses. Give me the humble duck any time. Ducks always seem to be smiling, and it's rare to find a mean one anywhere. Mother ducks will drive off threats fiercely, but their constant maternal murmuring keeps the babies within their radar. Had I been raised by a duck (or a cat, for that matter - cats make tender and attentive mothers), things might have turned out very differently for me.

One duck on a beautiful lake

One of my more poetical videos. This was an experiment in adding music which worked out fairly well.

Ducklings in a storm drain

I love these kinds of videos. I've seen the protectiveness of mother ducks, and their urgency and distress when they're separated from their chicks. In this case, one duckling must have gone down the storm drain, and when one goes, they all go, one after the other. It's an instinctive thing that protects them in the wild, but not necessarily on the street. These cops are great guys to take the time to get these cheeping fluffballs out, and not only that, to return them with their mother to the water. Am I reassured about the human condition? I guess so!

Bosley's great adventure!

Bosley is the name we gave to a very strange duck who lives with a flock of mallards in Como Lake. We kept wondering why a very large, piebald duck would hang around with wild birds like that. He looked more like a domestic duck than a wild one. Finally, unable to get any information about him, I sent a gif of him swimming to the Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology, one of the world's foremost institutions of aviana/birdology.

They got back to me right away, to my surprise, telling me that their best guess is that he's a hybrid of a mallard and a magpie duck, a large-ish domestic duck raised for meat. (See example below). It made sense. These ducks are black-and-white, whereas Bosley's markings have the mottled brown tones of a mallard - in particular, a female.

So it shouldn't have surprised us to see a male mallard chasing after her. She was waddling around on land - the first time we've seen her (him? Still not sure) do that. We've been watching her for a couple of years now, and it's amazing how we see her almost every time we visit.  Once when all the mallards had flown away, we saw him (her?) in the very middle of the lake, dabbling and paddling around alone.

I can see why one of Bosley's parents would want to run away from home if he or she were about to become dinner. But it is obvious this is a true adoption. I mean, if the rest of the flock wants to mate with you. . .  The mallard drake might have been pursuing (her) romantically, or chasing (him) off as a rival. But now that I look at that mottled brown breast, I seriously wonder if Bosley is really a Boslette.

It's a funny video, and unique among all our Bosliana.

BLOGGER'S FOOTNOTE. I found a very strange group of pictures of ducks very similar to Bosley (see example, above) - only they were even more mallardy (or mallardly) than our Bos. I say more mallardly because some of them even had the iridescent green heads of the mallard drake. This was on a duck forum of some kind, and everyone took a guess at what kind of ducks these were. They came up with half a dozen names of very exotic-sounding purebred breeds. Fuck, guys! These are bastard pretenders, the love children of two duck species, and you cannot admit it because mallards are just too common. They're like pigeons, really. Only little kids like them.

And magpie ducks.

Are these magpie/mallard hybrids?

The orphan duckling

I love seeing and filming the first ducklings of spring, but I was saddened to see this little guy running around peeping frantically. I am almost certain he was separated from his mother, or she lost track of him (not hard to do looking after 24 babies at a time). Ducklings can swim and feed themselves immediately upon hatching, but they have little sense of direction on their own, and have to be herded and tended to keep predators away. A duckling this tiny would be a tender morsel for a crow.

My hope is that he or she found a new flock or clutch or whatever you call those darting swarms of golden fluffballs in the lake. If Bosley can make it with a flock of mallards (I deal with Bosley in another post), maybe this teeny one can rejoin the duck race. 

Duck, duck, goose: the two million duck march

randomgifs1