It’s springtime; Nature photography high season is on and in this time of year, home is where the camera is. Needless to say that my 4 mini-panthers are not so pleased with this lack-of attention-policy. So WHEN I’m at home, quality time is required and for my oldest tom cat Mythos, this means taking a walk. No fancy hassle, just one round, together. So last time we finally did our walk, when…. … .. “Stooooooppppp … ducklingssssss !!!!!” I looked at Mythos … .. And Mythos looked at me: “Don’t you dare, ot I’ll order a new human tonight!” So we finished our walk and afterwards, I quickly ran back. ; eight ducklings, yay!
Day 1: Duckling Dream
Such a serene sight; 8 carefree ducklings, sliding over the smooth water surface. Feasting with flies in a perfectly peaceful world, safe and confident. Soft spring light plays through their baby feathers and watching these few grams of pure innocence slipping over the water, the world seemed a little more beautiful; A glimpse of duck paradise.
Day 2: Duckling-Eden threatened
With a heart full of hope, I frisk to my Duckling-Eden and …I’m startled! On my right a cat licking its lips. On my left a heron just swallowing something. Only 3 of them are left! The paradise is starting to show some cracks …
Day 3: The unbearable darkness of being a duckling
Nature knows a nifty trick, called ‘safety by numbers’. The larger the group, the smaller the chance that an individual becomes victim of an accident or attack. Ducks seem to apply this by producing huge amounts of ducklings. Sounds good, no? But in practice, this mother duck is just breeding pike bait. And I know; ‘that’s called nature’. But why equip this pike feed with such adorable little feet. And two utterly cute little wings? And those beautiful beady eyes? And such cute little squeak? Had it been some kind of unsightly little lump, with an intensely bad character, things would have been way easier. But nature designed them to be cute. That fluffiness is meant to disarm. Literally. Too bad that heron, cat and pike don’t get this. After 3 days, just one lonely duckling was left. One duckling, that must have spent its short life watching its siblings either been pulled underwater, or dragged into airspace.
The happiness I had felt was totally gone. All I saw was the unbearable sadness of being a duckling. Statistically, it was likely that this lonely duckling was swimming its last hours. And I might be wrong, but somehow it occurred to me that the duckling knew it, too… The vivid colors seemed to have disappeared. The soft twinkling suddenly looked sharp and fierce …… ., as if every bokeh ball hid a danger.
Ducking paradise had turned into duckling Armageddon ….
The writer decides
You might know that I happen to be a huge sucker for Happy Ends. Fortunately, this is my blog, in which I determine. Although I cannot fight the cruelty of nature, I can use MY weapon – my keyboard – and rewrite history as I please. Real Life may be a bitch; In my writings and pictures I determine the outcome.
Today …paradise is lost…
…but soon to be found…