As we tour a family member around Lanark County (7 Wonders!), we stop at Pakenham, famous for its now-historic 5-arch stone bridge and for its always-fresh butter tarts, not necessarily in that order. The bridge may not be the primary attraction, but it is lovely.
This day, there is a raft of ducks in the water just above the rapids. At first glance, the ducks are close to all being of a size, but closer inspection confirms that they’re a female and a host of younger ones: not babies or even toddlers, I’m thinking, but teenagers.
Their apparent calm so close to the rapids is impressive–even surprising. Surely anything that goes over those rocks–even or especially a mid-sized ball of fluff–is likely to be doing so ass-over-teakettle. But, as an onlooker explains, the ducks have found a zone where they can paddle about and feed safely in an area of water that is not rushing pell-mell over the rocks. And although they seem to be oblivious to our presence, I note that they oh-so-casually stay far enough from the shore to foil any land-based attack. It’s almost as if they were expert at being ducks.
I note, too, that the ducks did not re-route the river, or blast out the rocks, or set up net barriers. They did not change their environment in any way, and yet they found a way to prosper in it.
I can’t engineer a fix for life’s rapids to make it all smooth paddling. But can I be as smart as a duck, finding or making a safe zone of some sort for myself, my neighbours, and the children of my community? Can I be as good at being human as the ducks are at being ducks? Can we all?
Ducks are not known for their intelligence, but can we as human beings at least strive for that level – or perhaps surpass it?
Thanks Isabel
George – 🙂 Many thanks to you.
“Just ducky” comes into a clearer perspective from your close observations. There’s more to being a duck than just floating along with the stream. It was a term of endearment in our family, especially for little children, which I understand is of British origins.
Laurna – As a friend says, everything is possible for the person who doesn’t have to do it themselves. A duck’s lot in life looks pretty easy, but I wouldn’t want to try it!
Playful little fellas, Isabel.
Tom
Tom – Yeah, and they sure hang together, don’t they?
Reminds me of some of the ducks that similarly float about at Hog’s Back oblivious to the precipice 5-10 feet away. They too find a small eddy and are safe.
Clever birds those ducks!
Jim R – I’ll keep an eye open for them.
Isabel – given that teenage ducks and their elders can fly, going over the edge shouldn’t have been much of a worry. The current would have just added to their takeoff velocity.
I have also seen little balls of yellow fluff go over the edge and bob up down at the bottom just like, well little rubber duckies The problem comes when some go over and some remain on top and mother-duck has to convince the ones on top to “come on down”.
John – I’d like to see the bobbing balls of fluff! I’ll have to get out earlier next summer I guess.
I seem to remember that about 40 years ago the bridge had to be dismantled and rebuilt exactly the same. Am I misremembering? I believe John and met the stone mason (?) responsible for this achievement. Again, ?
Ducks: Are we all calm on the exterior and paddling like mad underneath? I guess the trick is to paddle just enough to stay out of life’s rapids but not wear oneself out.
Barbara – I believe it was rebuilt in 1984, which is indeed about 40 years ago. Good remembery!