Behind the Puddle

One ordinary moment, observed behind the puddle.

Mallards

  • The Log We Almost Removed

    The Log We Almost Removed

    When the mallards were little, they were simply “the babies.” Their mother kept them tucked along the protected edges of the puddle, often beneath the female tree or just beyond where we could easily see them from the patio. Unless we happened to be over by the grill, we usually caught only little glimpses of… Continue reading

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  • The Mallard Who Wasn’t Stuck

    The Mallard Who Wasn’t Stuck

    There was a mallard sitting in the puddle today. And I mean sitting. For hours. In almost exactly the same spot. He was there while we watched the usual activity around the puddle. He was there while Judy and Ron stopped by. He was there while conversations happened on the patio and the rest of… Continue reading

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  • When the Log Gets Smaller

    When the Log Gets Smaller

    The baby mallards are definitely growing. Not because the log is shrinking, but because they aren’t the tiny ducklings they were just a short time ago. They still gather on the same familiar resting place, pressing against one another as if nothing has changed. But it has. Pretty soon they won’t all fit. It made… Continue reading

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  • Neighborhood Coffee Shop

    Some mornings the puddle sounds like a neighborhood coffee shop. Stella stood quietly in the water, saying nothing at all. Off to one side, our Lone Goose had plenty to say. Every few seconds another loud honk echoed across the puddle. Behind Stella, three more geese answered—not with the same booming voice, but taking turns… Continue reading

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  • Finding Higher Ground

    There comes a point in every season when the little ones stop hiding quite so much. They haven’t left home, and they aren’t fully independent, but they begin to trust the world enough to step into the open. This morning, the highest point in the puddle wasn’t much, a weathered log barely rising above the… Continue reading

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  • Return Begins Quietly

    When the ducklings first appeared, nearly every movement was measured. They hugged the shoreline, slipped in and out of the shadows beneath the trees, and rarely strayed far from where their mother could gather them back together. Their world was still small enough to fit beneath her watchful eye. Today, it was different. The little… Continue reading

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