Those wise waddlers
Walkabout: PI
Happenings in the Star City
It was a warm, sunny Saturday and the ducks at Mantle Lake Park were out in full, feathered force, some swimming placidly, more basking on the bank, one or two occasionally waddling a bit closer to see if there might be a handout.
Apparently they decided that my bicycle helmet and camera were nothing good to eat, but some kids had come prepared with bits of bread. Under watchful parents’ eyes, they tossed some into the water, where the waiting fowl dove and the crumbs disappeared.
Then, the littlest girl made a dash for the group of ducks resting under a nearby tree.
“No, wait!” said her older brother in a stage whisper audible from halfway across the park. “You’ve got to be quiet! If you just sit down they might come to you!”
She froze in her tracks and — plunk! — dropped down to the grassy bank, where she sat stock-still for as long as she could stand it — then was up in a flurry, arms waving, laughing as the ducks hopped up, some going airborne, headed for the water.
They returned in about 30 seconds, webbed feet plodding up on the bank, settling in to sunbathe.
They seem pretty tame, and on many days in the park people enjoy their company. Young folks never tire of tossing food to the lake’s winged residents — and it’s true, if you sit quietly, they meander ever closer, likely deciding you’re no threat and you just might have food.
The ducks are mostly mallards, characterized largely by the males’ deep teal-colored heads and white ring around their necks.
The Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife describes mallards as dabbling ducks. Dabblers, according to the MDIFW website, feed by “dabbling” on water surfaces or by “upending” (diving in bottoms-up), although they will also feed on land. The females’ brown-and-white coloring helps camouflage them when they are nesting.
That camouflage works when they nest in the wild, but then there are those fowl that choose odder places to nurture their eggs…
The University of Maine at Presque Isle campus became well-acquainted with that last spring. The campus gained a temporary feathered resident in May when a nesting mother mallard decided a flower box outside the Center for Innovative Learning (library) was where she wanted to hatch her young.
Discovered on May 1, the duck become somewhat of a celebrity. Officials decided it was best to leave her be — and put in place signs outside the flower box to let people know there was a nesting duck inside and not to disturb her. And they even took it a step further.
“Until those eggs hatch,” says a May 15, 2015, article from the campus, “the university has set up a ‘Duck Cam’ to allow the mallard hen to nest undisturbed while giving the campus and community the opportunity to check in on what’s happening with her and her nest.”
On the advice of ornithologist and Assistant Professor of Wildlife Ecology Dr. Jason Johnston, the university even came up with a plan to make sure the duck and her ducklings, when ready, were guided safely to nearby water.
Of course, I had to see. I went up and very quietly approached the flower box, with its yellow triangular “Nesting Duck” sign. There she was, this mother duck, settled in amongst the plant life, looking perfectly at home and seemingly as unconcerned as she could be that she was in an odd duck situation.
Maybe some of her young are among the brood now at Mantle Lake, all the wiser for having been hatched at a library.
