George, The Duck

from 6/7/08

My local creek has stretch that resembles a pond. Its about hundred or so yards past one of my favorite areas: "The tunnel of honeysuckle." Once you pass through this very sweet but shaded area... you're to the "pond". And for the last few weeks, I’ve noticed is home to a lone male mallard duck. I had wondered where his mate was... Did she die? Had he yet to meet her? My only real life observations of the Anseriform Family have been limited to the Canadian geese that frequent these parts as well as some swans. Never really paid attention to ducks.

That's also probably due to the fact I get very skittish around large flocks of ducks or really any kind of bird. Feeding them is not a "good time" to me, much to the amusement of my kids.

Despite my overall discomfort, being the curious person that I am, did a bit of research. And I felt for the little lone fellow. Aren't they supposed to be in flocks or pairs?

Well it turns out that these ducks only pair up until she lays her eggs. Then he’s outta there. So my guy may have moved in because he’s done his duck duty and now is footloose and fancy free. His fine self is paddling around happy as can be down there. I giggle to liken him to that other beautiful but perennial famous bachelor: George Clooney. So I named him George in his honor.

Those male mallards are certainly interesting little creatures. In addition to the ditching their mate they also will engage in “rape flight” if they fail to secure a one that season. The males will gang up on female and take turns with her.

And get this... they will also do the same sometimes to another MALE. [Insert favorite prison shower joke here.]

Or they will pair up with another solo male. Turns out that some science-types documented that close to 20% of the male duck population is gay. Which makes me wonder if they stick together indefinitely as no eggs are going to be laid.

There was even one documented observation of a male mallard copulating with a DEAD male mallard. The poor thing had broken its neck slamming into a sliding glass door. And I thought some of the men I've met were desperate.

There is no way to know George’s orientation or history. But it is fun to consider whether or not one day I’ll see another male or female paddling next to him.

I’m a bit concerned though... We had violent series of thunderstorms recently. They were so strong that 50 foot trees had blown over. I counted at least six along the mile or so long looping path. There may be more closer to the creek but hard to tell in the dense foliage. On one part of the bike path that runs parallel to the creek, a tree had toppled and the roots that lay under the asphalt tore it up.

I imagine it must have felt like the world had been turned upside down to those creatures who call that creek and surrounding watershed home. Hopefully he wasn’t hurt by a crashing tree or scared out of his home. Maybe he’ll come home soon. I already miss George.