Category: ducks

Readers’ wildlife photos

August 12, 2025 • 8:15 am

Aaaaand. . .  we have two batches left, so please send in your good wildlife photos.

Today we have another demonstration of the presence of wildlife in urban habitats, this time in temporary ponds. The photographer is Dick Kleinknecht; his captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them. 

Neighborhood storm-water ponds can become waterfowl habitat

Increasing governmental requirements for storm-water management have led to a sizable growth in the number of small, year-round mini-lakes throughout the region (Western Washington), which mitigate rain runoff problems ,as intended, but also increase available annual habitat for aquatic fauna. This post describes one such storm-water mini-lake.  My particular pond, in the middle of a medium to large housing development, has a half-mile long asphalt path around it and provides substantial visual interest while out for a multi-lap walk.  Year-round mini-lakes such as this can create a home for year-round aquatic residents.  All photos are mine or my daughter’s, and all were taken with a Samsung Galaxy S9 phone/camera.

The next photo shows a pair of Canada Geese (Branta canadensis) and their two new goslings standing in the grass border between the pond and the path.  Papa Ganders (male geese) are always on guard duty while Momma Geese and the kids eat. The city mows the grass/reed lake border but has agreed not to do so until after the nesting waterfowl’s eggs have hatched and the newborns can swim.

The following picture shows a basking resident turtle (most likely ID is a non-native Trachemys scripta elegans, AKA Red-eared Slider) and a momma Mallard (Anas platyrhynchos) with her brood:

Our ducks and geese certainly play well together.  Here we see a dozen or so ducks on the shore while a small flotilla of geese, all in a row, swim over to join them:

There were several duck families on the pond, and each had their own duckling brood.  This family seemed to be trying to swim in a straight line behind Mom, but perhaps they were a bit too undisciplined to pull it off.  They gave the appearance of trying, however ineffectual the performance.

A curious observation on this pond:  Drakes (male ducks) didn’t stick around very long after the ducklings had progressed to the point where they began to replace fluff with feathers, while the ganders actually guarded and went swimming with the whole family at least until the goslings matured to the point where I had difficulty differentiating them from their parents at a distance.

Our resident Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) does more than just pose for pictures.  The bird also is a successful hunter, doing its part to keep the bullfrog population under control:  Happy heron, sad American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus)!:

Readers’ wildlife photos

August 7, 2025 • 8:15 am

After this post I have only one or two readers’ wildlife contributions left. So if you have photos, please send them in! (In truth, I’m amazed and pleased that we have gotten such a great reader response and so many photos.)

Today’s photos come from Christopher Moss in Nova Scotia, who labeled the contribution “Aix sponsa subfusc”.  Aix sponsa are, of course, wood ducks, and “subfusc,” if you don’t know it, can refer to either “dusky and dreary” or to “the gown worn by [UK] students during examinations.” Either is appropriate for the drakes ducks out of season. Christopher’s text is indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

We have some moulting wood ducks (Aix sponsa) on the pond. The females don’t look too different from their usual drab selves, but the two males are much reduced in glory.

Females:

Molting drakes:

Here’s a drake in full plumage from 2022 for comparison:

Here’s a picture I (Jerry) took of two wood ducks who temporarily resided in Botany Pond several years ago. Frisky, the male, continually courted Ruth, but since she’d doubtlessly already had babies, she rejected his advances (it was the end of summer). Both are in full season plumage, and the sexual dimorphism is striking.

And my (JAC’s) close-up of Frisky’s head.  (Wood ducks are America’s most beautiful duck, though the imported Mandarin duck is even prettier.)

Since they cut down both trees in Botany Pond, we will never see this species again 🙁

Readers’ wildlife photos

July 30, 2025 • 8:15 am

Ecologist Susan Harrison went way north in Alaska and sends us a variety of photos. Her captions are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Alaska part 2:  Utqiagvik, on the shore of the Beaufort Sea

Today’s post is the second part of a June 2025 Alaskan bird and wildlife trip.  The first part featured Nome at 64.5 degrees latitude, while today’s treks farther poleward to Utqiagvik (Barrow), the northernmost tip of the US at 71.3 degrees latitude.

JAC: This is touted as the northernmost city in the U.S. (population 4,927), and here’s a small map from Wikipedia showing where it is:

Three large, beautiful, seldom-seen Arctic ducks are found here: King Eider (Somateria spectabilis), Steller’s Eider (Polysticta stelleri), and the rare Spectacled Eider (Somateria fischeri).  They breed in the Far North, and while the first two overwinter at slightly lower latitudes, the hardy Spectacled Eider spends winters in ice-free openings on the Bering Sea.  Seeing all three Eiders cruising the tundra ponds in prom-like pairs, with the males in their fantastical breeding plumages, is a good enough reason to visit Utqiagvik in summer.

King Eider:

Steller’s Eider: (

Spectacled Eider:

Phalaropes are delicate tiny waterbirds that spin rapid circles in the water while hunting invertebrates.  Females are the larger and more colorful sex.  While I’ve often seen them the lower 48 states, it was a revelation to see the breeding colors and behaviors of Red Phalaropes (Phalaropus fulicarius) and Red-necked Phalaropes (Phalaropus lobatus).   Also very common in the same tundra ponds were Long-tailed Ducks (Clangula hyemalis).

Red Phalaropes:

Red-necked Phalaropes:

Long-tailed Ducks:

Various little wading birds were courting on the tundra hummocks.  Pectoral Sandpipers (Calidris melanotus) puffed out their chests until the bird was shaped like a half-football, then flew around hooting loudly.  Dunlin (Calidris alpina) and Red-necked Stint (Calidris ruficollis), the latter a “stray” from northern Eurasia, were dressed to kill.

Pectoral Sandpiper:

Dunlin:

Red-necked Stint:

Songbirds were not very diverse, but two handsome and abundant species were the Snow Bunting (Plectrophenax nivalis) and Lapland Longspur (Calcarius lapponicus).

Snow Bunting:

Lapland Longspur on a leopard-patterned snowmobile seat:

And finally the mammals. We came upon a Polar Bear (Ursus maritimus) that was tugging at the carcass of a small whale on the beach.  After returning to the sea ice, the bear stayed at just the right distance to allow us to safely take photos, until it wandered out of sight while hunting for seals.  Later, we caught a distant view of an Arctic Fox (Vulpes lagopus) hunting for bird eggs on the tundra.

Polar Bear:

Arctic Fox (photo Chris Brown):

Utqiagvik (population ~5,000) is a mainly Indigenous community in which whales, seals, birds, and other animals are hunted by traditional and modern methods.  Heaped next to the weatherbeaten houses were bones, antlers, hides, snow machines, sleds, trucks, and well-used gear of all sorts.  The 2011 movie “On the Ice”, filmed here with a local cast, offers a window into this ancient town’s modern way of life. The movie has quite a different feel than “North of North,” the sunny new series set in a Canadian Arctic village (I recommend both).

Utqiagvik houses and traditional skin boat:

Sign explaining that the town’s name means “place where we hunt Snowy Owls”:

The best duck photos of the season

July 26, 2025 • 1:15 pm

We almost had another brood in Botany Pond: a hen several blocks away showed up with a brood of about nine ducklings, and though I was in Iceland, the stalwart members of Team Duck tried to shoo them into Botany Pond where they’d be safe (there were people to feed them). Sadly, they got all messed up trying to get through a hedge, and Team Duck, along with Facilities and the Chicago Bird Collision Monitors, all on the scene, couldn’t get the mother and brood together to herd.  Seven of the ducklings were rescued and taken to rehab, but mom and two babies stayed in the bush, and disappeared overnight.

This is part of the sadness attendant on duck-tending. But at least most of that brood will be okay (they’ll supposedly get surrogate moms), and we did fledge Esther’s six ducklings, which flew the coop after I was overseas. In memory of Esther and her brood, then, here are what I think are the three best photos from the last duck season. We needed more broods!

First, Esther and her seven (remember, one disappeared the first night) only a few minutes after they hit the water. You may recall that she was our first hen to incubate her eggs on the grounds—the usual behavior of mallards. Facilities put a plastic fence around her nest to keep interlopers away.

Esther was an excellent mother.

A marching duckling from that brood, a bit older:

And my favorite photo of the season, “Smiling splashing duckling” (yes, this is one of the babies all grown up):

Five ducks a-flying

July 6, 2025 • 8:15 am

I couldn’t resist putting up this 2.25-minute video, as it convinced me that the two ducklings who disappeared on July 4 actually flew away and didn’t waddle off or were taken by predators.

This was filmed yesterday after Esther and her remaining four ducklings had a light lunch (they eat less now because they’re dabbling). And after lunch is play/swim/flap/dunk/dive/fly time.  This video shows considerable proficiency in flying, which begings about 13 seconds in and involves every mallard. Note the U-turn at 18 seconds.

Be sure to watch all the way until the end, because another bout of flying, again involving all five, begins at 1:25.

They are clearly ready to fledge, and I’m told that they do so at roughly 50-60 days after hatching.  May 7 (the day the brood hit the water) until July 4 is 58 days.

Saturday duck report

July 5, 2025 • 8:30 am

There will be no Caturday Felid report today, though I have several incomplete versions in draft. Instead, I need to bring you up to date on Esther and her brood.

I am sorely behind in reporting on the “ducklings”—if you can call them that at their size—and tender this report showing the duckling and Esther up to July 1.  I have some good pictures and videos that will probably have to wait until my return, as adding them here would make the post too long. Some of them show the ducklings making some of their first flights, and I have one of those below.

But I’ll bring you somewhat up to today. Two of the six ducklings apparently flew away yesterday; their wings and flight feathers are certainly large enough to enable them to do that. After searching all around the area for the two errant ducklings, I’ve concluded that they’ve heeded the call of the wild and went off to live their lives as free ducks in Nature. It makes me sad—somewhat, I suppose, like a parent whose well-brought-up child has left for college. Or, as a friend says, I had the ducks “only on temporary loan from Nature.”

There are four left now, plus Esther, who may fly away too, but I”m hoping she’ll decide to stay and molt in the pond, renewing her feathers. That will render her flightless for a month, but at least she’ll be safe, well fed, and I might be able to see her when I return.  So here we go. . .

First, an artsy photo of flowers reflected in the pond, taken on June 18:

Mother Esther, one of the best duck mothers I’ve known.  Never once did she leave her brood alone in the pond, and was always watching and monitoring them. I will miss her. Perhaps she’ll return next year: I have photos of her bill pattern that I can use to identify her.

The brood, June 20. Six ducklings, with Esther out of the frame to the right:

The brood follow Esther by a “plant cage,” where reeds, water lilies, and water lettuce are sequestered under the assumption that the ducks would eat them if they were available:

Look how big they’ve become!:

There is a singleton hen who hangs around the pond and has become tame enough to approach me after I feed the brood. scarfing up whatever food I’ve spilled. Her vacuum-like behavior has inspired us to name her “Hoover”.  Esther and her brood don’t like her and chase her out of the pond if they see her. I feel sorry for her as she’s obviously not nesting (she’s around most of the time), so I try to give her a good feed on her own. Here she is, recognizable by her very dark bill:

A video of some ducklings nibbling grass on June 21. They seem to like some of the greenery around the pond, and you can see one duck pushing away an interloper:

One duckling standing. He (the olive-green bill suggest that it’s a male) is nice and plump, just the way I like them (note; they are not fat, but this is right after lunch):

One duckling sitting, resting its bill on its food-stuffed crop.

Starting about June 15, the ducklings were often flapping their wings, either for the joy of flapping or to exercise them for flying (the latter suggests that the experience is pleasurable, so it’s probably both). Here are two of the brood flapping away:

The video below shows Esther and the brood (she’s the light-colored one) walking along the pond, along with a bit of duckling wing-flapping. The “babies” are as big as mom.

Ducklings zooming and flapping: the first steps in flying. They’re also diving.

 

Semi-successful flight (sort of), the duck who can really take off is Esther, but I suspect she’s setting an example, prompting the ducklings to try their hand at levitation. You can see several of the brood actually lifting their bodies out of the water, so zooming has created a bit of lift:

Here’s a photo from June 18 of three ducklings “dabbling”, scouring the shallow bottom for food. (Yes, their naughty bits are showing.) Since they’ve started doing this, they don’t eat as many duck pellets, though they retain their great love of mealworms.  I’m certain that part of what they’re eating on the bottom is the algae that gives the green color fo the pond.

More dabbling. Mallards are informally called “dabbling ducks”. As Cornell University’s bird site notes:

Mallards are “dabbling ducks”—they feed in the water by tipping forward and grazing on underwater plants. They almost never dive. They can be very tame ducks especially in city ponds, and often group together with other Mallards and other species of dabbling ducks.

A group of dabblers. It’s hard to catch them all tipped forward at once, but it happens. They tend to congregate in small areas where the pickings must be good:

From June 29, a video of preening, dabbling, and grabbing at a leaf (latter at 0:31). I’m not sure whether that duck actually wants to eat part of the leaf or is just playing.

And we’ll end with more “artistic” reflections.  More to come, though it may have to wait until I return.

A happy duckling

July 3, 2025 • 9:00 am

Our “ducklings” have grown up now, and they’re as big as their mother Esther. Although their wings aren’t yet of full size, they can still fly a bit, flapping across the pond about a foot above the water. Yesterday one even made a U-turn and flew back. It won’t be long till they’re accomplished flyers and, sadly, I’ll probably be in the Arctic when that happens. In fact, they may be gone for good when I return in a few weeks, though Esther has yet to begin her molt, which takes about a month and renders her flightless as she sheds and regrows her wing feathers. (All ducks molt once a year, and hens do it after the babies are grown.)

I have a ton of photos and videos, including incipient flying, and will post them in time. I’ll try to do one tomorrow and one when I return. In the meantime, yesterday afternoon, when it was hot, the brood was splashing, diving, flying, and dunking, and here’s one “duckling” who looks quite happy after a good dunk in the water. (Click photo to enlarge it.)

More to come. . .