WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

It has been a spectacular year for tipping your head back and looking toward the Heavens.  Mere stargazing at the night sky simply paled in comparison to the treats our eyes have feasted on in 2024. We have had four consecutive Supermoons, including the recent Beaver Moon, which rose on November 15th.  With binoculars, or even the naked eye, we were able to see Comet A3, the brightest comet in 27 years, which graced our skies in October.  All around the world folks shared photos and were in awe as they witnessed the Aurora, not just once, but on multiple occasions. 

We certainly can’t forget the hoopla surrounding the April 8th Solar Eclipse which crossed over North America, leaving us enthralled.  Here in SE Michigan we had a partial eclipse, except for the tiny town of Estral Beach that experienced totality that day.

The word “eclipse” is more than a definition about a celestial body, or one person or object “besting” another.  Today’s post is going to be about a not-so-ducky time for all Mallard Ducks (and other species of ducks) during their annual molt.  

So I’m going to focus on these brown-colored Mallards, but there are always other things to see at Heritage Park, as you know.

Looking drab and feeling bad(ly)!

As to Mallards, “eclipse phase” is a phrase meaning the Drake (male) Mallards lose their familiar-to-us plumage, like the teal-colored head feathers, chocolate-brown breast feathers and other distinctive markings, when, for a one-month period, they have all-brown plumage, thus resembling the Hens (females).  This process of drabness (“eclipse”) happens at Summer’s end once the breeding period is over.  Gradually, the Drakes’ more-familiar plumage returns and once again they are not only distinguished looking, but distinguishable from the Hens.  

But, in the interim, losing their feathers zaps their energy and they feel and look lackluster – there’s a lot of snoozin’ going on, like this guy, who sleepily watched me, then couldn’t keep his eyes open. This is a Mallard Drake – you can see a little bit of its teal head feathers returning.

And, at all the parks I frequent, during molting, it looks like a feather pillow fight erupted.

On this walk, which took place at Heritage Park, it was September 1st, the Sunday of Labor Day weekend.  It was a gorgeous day, sunny and bright, when I set out on my stroll around Coan Lake.  I had already been to Council Point Park earlier that day, getting in some steps, so this was more of a photo excursion.

I always take a quick gander for possible photo ops.

A gaggle of Canada geese had congregated at the water’s edge.  

They were all stirred up about something, emitting honks amongst themselves.  There are many geese at this park and they just meander around, only becoming fitful when their goslings are in tow and they deem you a threat.  The rest of the time, they’re okay with humans, so what set them off?

I knew I hadn’t stirred them up as I had just arrived, but I was greeted with flapping wings by this fellow a few times.  Here he is with both a calm and mean demeanor.  A regular Dr. Jekyll …

… and Mr. Hyde persona.

In between posing for me, he was busy wagging that bright-pink tongue. 

There was a lot of attitude going on, not only with the usual wagging pink tongue and hissing histrionics, but it was “goosing” the others, by running into them full force with its bill.  It looked at me in a menacing way and for a moment there I thought “what … am I your next victim?” 

I, however, thought this gander lost its credibility after the goosing incident left it with a feather on its bill after the last jabbing, … er goosing.

This aggressive gander finally succeeded in running half the park’s geese population into Coan Lake.  I thought “alright then, whatever floats your boat buddy.”  Note the open beak on him as the one goose takes flight.

But a few minutes later, as I neared the grassy slopes at Coan Lake and the covered bridge, I finally had some insight into why the geese were agitated.

Please don’t feed the critters.

For years there was a gentleman who visited Coan Lake daily with two large sacks of cracked corn.  The ducks would see him approach and gather around him and he would throw out handfuls of corn which they instantly gobbled up.  But the man and his generous feeding ritual are long gone as this park now prohibits feeding the wildlife.

But, on this day, there was a man and woman with two kids.  I’m assuming these were the parents and they were toting a couple of bags of bread chunks which they portioned out to the kids to toss to the ducks.  I’m also assuming they similarly tried feeding the geese and likely had a stampede of geese coming toward them, so they quickly moved along the grassy shoreline to the more sedate Mallards.

Feeding the ducks – what could go wrong?

If you’re going to feed the masses, you have to bring enough for all of them.  The Mallards that were paddling in the water saw food opportunities and rushed onto the grassy slope to partake in the yeasty treats.  Soon the shoreline was swarming with ducks.  The kids were delighted … that is until they ran out of bread and those ducks that were denied treats waddled over even closer to them.

I watched with interest through the camera, all the while clicking away.

The parents were nowhere to be found.

The kids stood there wondering what to do?  They probably thought “ did mom and dad go to get more bread?”

Meanwhile, the ducks were similarly wondering what to do?  “Do we hang out and wait?  Or do we go back into the water?”

We’re not ducking outta here – yet!

Well, the ducks stood their ground, awaiting treats.  This gave me a great view and the perfect opportunity to show you how these ducks are still either molting and awaiting their new feathers, or some were in transition to final plumage.  You will notice that all the Mallards are brown, with the exception of a few.  You see both males and females with their conspicuous blue-colored speculum feathers which identifies them as Mallards.  Additionally, some of the Mallards could be immature/juveniles so they are brown feathered, as the males don’t get the bright green iridescent head feathers until they are about ten months old.

It was nice being surrounded by so many ducks, except some were scoping ME out as a potential benefactor. 

“Nope, not going to happen – sorry” I told them.

The few Mallards that chomped on tidbits were thirsty and quenched their thirst in a feather-filled puddle.

Herding ducks –  well that’s a first for this venue.

I got a lot of photos and was about to move on when the girl loudly announced that she was going to make all the ducks go into the water, then proceeded to chase them.

Poor babies … some lured out of the water for an anticipated treat, then being chased back into Coan Lake, tummies still growling.  Yes, they waddled quickly, some even taking to the air, probably to avoid being stomped on as the youngster ran along the grassy slope attempting to shoo them into the water.

Well, it worked for some of them who beat a hasty retreat …

… while others, a wee bit conflicted, merely veered toward the water, obediently following her, still wondering if there would be more treats?

Some ducks, with a mind of their own, weren’t keen on playing “follow the leader” with another species, so they headed back to the walking path, under a big tree and close to me.

Finally the kids’ parents appeared on the scene (with no bread); the kids ran over to them and about 50 Mallards were left scratching their brown-feathered heads wondering what the heck just happened here. I similarly was wondering. 🙂

So would there be a third oddball occurrence?

I walked the long way to the Botanical Gardens, hoping for a hummingbird to happen by.  But nope, no flowers enticed them, nor the butterflies or bees either.  I did see a Goldfinch nibbling on a yellow flower – I don’t know if it was a female or a male as they similarly molt that time of year.

The Botanical Gardens had blooms aplenty –  who knew that they would be blooming for another ten weeks as we’ve yet to have a hard freeze?  Perennials and annuals here in SE Michigan still look great.

It was Labor Day weekend, the unofficial end to Summer …

… and a long, hot Summer at that. Maggie’s Sweet Shop was closed, but her ice cream “menu” and sign were still there.

I am joining Terri’s Sunday Stills Photo Color Challenge:  Auburn or Brown.