This year, the official arrival of spring seemed to coincide nicely with the disappearance of the ice from many of our local lakes and ponds.
Last weekend, while collecting ambient nature sounds for my podcast, I was actually able to hear the impact of this change in the form of distant Canada geese and then a surprise flyover by a pair of mallards. Long before that, however, I could see the influence of the diminishing ice whenever I spotted a group of ducks flying in the wee hours of the morning while I was driving to work. Their presence added a little joy to that otherwise humdrum task.
Lately, though, the presence of ducks has become one of those excruciating agonies that only photographers might feel. This is particularly prominent on my way home from work when I pass a lake that nestles right up against the road. The ice melts away from the shoreline first, which provides ducks with open water that is perfectly situated for good photos. Unfortunately, the proximity of the water to the road also guarantees that any effort to stop will cause the ducks to panic and fly off. The birds are so tantalizingly close, yet completely out of reach.
In my arsenal of photography equipment, I possess the items that I would need to remedy this situation: full camouflage clothing, long pieces of camouflage burlap that I can use to disguise myself and even a ghillie suit that would render me unrecognizable as a human. I know this particular setup will work because I once set up near a small pond at a nature preserve and had a group of people walk to within eight feet of me as they admired the scenery. It wasn’t until they turned to leave that someone exclaimed, “Oh! What is that?”
The problem is that duck photography is best done in March and April when the weather can be quite unpleasant. Then you add in the fact that you have to arrive before dawn, set up, and then wait for the light all while the temperatures can be in the 30s. This is never appealing, but if the conditions happen to work out, then the photos can be astounding.
During the summer, the ducks seen most often are going to be mallards. During the beginning of spring, however, there are far more species to see as the ducks migrate north. Ring-necked Ducks, Green-winged Teals, Common Goldeneyes, Northern Pintails, Common Mergansers, and Hooded Mergansers are all delectable subjects for the lens, but the winner by far is the male wood duck. Of all our local duck species, the wood duck is the most magnificent; a true splendor of spring.
The wood duck (Aix sponsa) is one of the many species of ducks that have the surprising habit of nesting up in trees. They don’t build nests like songbirds, but they do use tree cavities in the same way that woodpeckers do. In fact, it is the pileated woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus) that can make nesting cavities that are ideal for wood ducks. The problem is that the woodpeckers select the trees they use for their own purposes, which means that the ducks need to be flexible. Sometimes the woodpecker trees aren’t necessarily close to water.
This just means that female wood ducks and their ducklings have a true adventure awaiting them. The females, who will be responsible for all of the nesting duties, will be the ones to make the final decision on their preferred cavities, but it is not uncommon to see pairs of wood ducks up in very large trees. The males escort the females as they do their house hunting, but once nesting is officially underway, the males take a powder. I remember seeing a pair of wood ducks engaged in this sort of behavior at the Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary in Easthampton. I immediately understood what I was looking at, but it was still a bit jarring to see ducks up in a tree.
Once the female selects her tree cavity, she will line the bottom with soft down that she plucks from her own breast. Then she will lay one egg per day until she has a clutch of 10-15 creamy white eggs. She will not start incubating the eggs until the last one is laid because it is exceptionally important that all of the eggs hatch at the same basic time. Incubating the eggs can take more than one month, which means that the nest is potentially vulnerable to predators for six to seven weeks.
When the eggs finally hatch, the most astounding and dangerous moment in wood duck reproduction occurs. The tiny ducklings emerge with their eyes open. In very short order, they will be dry and heartbreakingly adorable little balls of fluff. The female, sometimes called a hen, will then leave the nest and call to her babies, who take the astounding leap of faith necessary to leave a nest hole high up in a tree. Completely incapable of flight, the ducklings must simply jump into the open air and fall to Earth. Their diminutive size, and a certain inherent “bounciness,” allows them to land safely. Then the entire family has to walk to water where food can be found. Sometimes this requires a hike of up to a mile!
Water is necessary for ducklings because their mothers cannot feed them. The only thing a wood duck hen can do is show her babies what food is and where it can be found. She will also have to keep the ducklings warm and dry until they grow large enough to take care of themselves. The image of a female wood duck, sitting on land and surrounded by a dozen tiny ducklings, is something that summons a smile to my face. This is why spring is such a wonderful time of year.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 28 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service, the Nature Conservancy and the Massachusetts State Parks and he currently teaches high school biology and physics. For more information visit www.speakingofnature.com, Speaking of Nature on Facebook, or the Speaking of Nature Podcast.