This is what I woke to at the city house last week. They were all splashing and diving in my little goldfish pond. I loved the moment. In the next, the weenies barked and the mother flew over the edge and onto the lower lawn, quacking loudly to her brood to follow her. It is an eight foot drop and I thought, oh no, there wasn't any way, but all nine babies hopped onto the rocks and leapt over the edge in free fall.
If you remember, her eggs were snatched by something in the spirea bush. Another mother lost her entire brood in one day. Like the travails of Jemima Puddle-Duck, nature and farm life can be cruel sometimes, a fact Beatrix Potter herself observed. This mallard mother is a good one and seems to be caring for them. She brings them back many times a day. So, I've named her Haiku. Why? I don't know.
I don't really understand haiku poetry, but do appreciate the ability to be succinct; say what needs to be said in as few words as possible.
Here are a couple of haikus for you.
In the sharing
of simple pleasures
we become closer still.
Sitting by the lake
watching the ducks swim about
comfort in nature.
