DIXON – There’s nothing all that out-of-the-ordinary about this urban Mallard love nest.
It’s in a little depression on the moist ground, under a shady tree and surrounded by mulch and shrubbery that mottles when the sun shines through its leaves. That helps her speckled brown feathers keep her camouflaged while the nest hugs her recumbent oval outline.
At first, she was sunk so low one could barely see her at all. Now, she sits a little higher above ground level, warming a clutch of seven creamy-grayish-colored eggs with the ubiquitous equanimity of her breed, patiently awaiting her brood.
Although not necessarily in a visitor’s line of sight, there’s a little stream of water nearby, and often spotted, also nearby, is her emerald-topped chickie-daddy.
What is unusual is the geography of this maternity ward, which is in a noisy spot, rife with giant metal behemoths that rumble and glide past all day long, mere inches from the nest.
Yet she remains unflappable: She doesn’t move, doesn’t quack, barely blinks a beady motherly eye.
Daisy, as some of those neighbors have named her, is nesting in landscaping right-right-right next to the drive-thru lane at Arthur’s Garden Deli, and only a short waddle away from super-busy South Galena Avenue.
Maybe she has no fear because she has it so good: Her lotmates have taken her under their own wings, so to speak, leaving her bowls of fresh water, and sliced strawberries, veggies and other treats.
It takes three to four weeks for Mallard eggs to morph into fuzzy Mallard ducklings, which means her flock is due to arrive any day now.
They can walk and swim immediately. So, Mom will herd them to the nearby body of water toot sweet, where they must learn to dabble for their dinner. (Mallards aren’t divers, they’re dabblers.)
So should you get a hankering in the next several days to dabble yourself, maybe for a Work of Art and a slice of cheesecake, just take it slowly as you’re rounding the curve and heading for the window to place an order – there may be little lives at risk.
Once Daisy leads those ducklings to water, though, her Garden home will become a permanently empty nest: They won’t return at all.
In two months, the kids’ll be able to fly, and a whole new world will open up.
Good luck, ducks.
Mallard duck data
The Mallard is the ancestor of nearly all domestic duck breeds (everything except the Muscovy Duck).
Mallard pairs are generally monogamous, but paired males pursue females other than their mates. So-called “extra-pair copulations” are common among birds and in many species are consensual.
Mallard pairs form long before the spring breeding season. Pairing takes place in the fall, but courtship can be seen all winter.
Only the female incubates the eggs and takes care of the ducklings.
The standard duck’s quack is the sound of a female Mallard. Males don’t quack; they make a quieter, rasping sound.
Mallards, like other ducks, shed all their flight feathers at the end of the breeding season and are flightless for three to four weeks. They are secretive during this vulnerable time, and their body feathers molt into a concealing “eclipse” plumage that can make them hard to identify.
The oldest known Mallard was a male, and at least 27 years, 7 months old when he was shot in Arkansas in 2008. He was banded in Louisiana in 1981.
Source: allaboutbirds.org