Mallard Mayhem

The Mallards are cracking me up.

If you’ve been anywhere near a body of water, you’ve probably seen a Mallard – the males have green shiny heads, the typical duck shape, and a stunning purple wing patch.  They’re what we think of when we think of ducks.*

With their ubiquiosity, you might not look twice anymore.  They’re kids’ birds — floating placidly in pairs, sleeping on the bank with heads tucked under wing — borrr-ing.  Nothing like a flashy heron or hawk.

But have you seen a Mallard in the springtime?  They might look like portraits of marital harmony the rest of the year, but like most birds, Mallards pair off in the spring.  And it ain’t pretty.

It’s spring in San Francisco and the Mallards are going bonkers.

Mallard Mack:  I’m just floating around with my girl, Martha.  Boy, it is a nice sunny day on our lake.

Mallard Chip:  Quack, I’m ansy.  Quack, where are all the chicks?

Mallard Chuck:  QUACK, me too.  Quack quack.

Mallard Chester:  Quack.  What’s up with this — we hit the wrong lake?

Mallard Chip:  Wait, quack, check her out — over by the old bird. . . QUACK QUACK quack, you know what I mean.

Mallard Chuck:  Yeah, but, quack quack, he’s pretty big.

Mallard Chip:  He’s quack quack oooold.  We can take him, easy — come on, quack quack, winner gets the girl. . . .

The young punks ease over, paddling soft, approaching the couple.  Mack catches on and turns for a face off.  Chipper with his beak gives Mack a poke.  Mack pokes him back — poke, poke.  

Chip goes in again, his buddies backing him up, poke Poke, POKE!  They all get into it, wings flapping, water spashing everywhere! 

Martha backs away as her mate Mack fends them off valiantly.  Before long, Martha’s had enough of the splashing (Birds!) and takes wing. 

In a craze of wings and water, they all follow.  Mack catches up and blocks the challenging juveniles from her tail.  They circle the lake, wing up and over the tall pines, then come back for a landing, Mack’s position still intact. 

The young punks land and catch their breath a safe distance away.  It’s a standoff, for now.  

After a while, they creep close again – poke. . . .

So the next time you look up and think those Mallards are just flying around having fun, take a closer look — if you see a brown female in the lead, and buncha males following, you know it’s spring. I got ten bucks on Mack.  

 

* Live ducks that is. My dad thinks of crisp brown skin and hoisin sauce.

P.S. I didn’t have my camera on that eventful day, but they were still at it days later…