I've written a few times about longing for the winter visitors that I'd normally see on my neighborhood birding trail by now. Two years ago, I was excited to encounter my first wood duck - a male - on the lower pond at Granada Park. While small, he was probably the prettiest of the winter waterfowl that migrate to or through this part of Arizona during the season.
Last year I encountered another one swimming on the Arizona Canal that divides my Biltmore community in half. Like the individual from the previous year, he was in a group of mallards, and was standing out because of his diminutive size and bright plumage. He didn't stick around that part of the waterway for long, and was the last wood duck I'd see until I got lucky again at Granada Park last week.
I probably pass near this urban recreation space daily on my various drives throughout the city. In the winter, I like to stop by every ten days or so with my camera in case a migratory bird is visiting. I've been fortunate in my discoveries the last few years as I've photographed northern shovelers, common pintails, common mergansers, goldeneyes, canvasbacks, ring-necked ducks and American wigeons. These latter two birds are consistently diving and dabbling on one of the park's lakes as they regularly join the year-round residents that include mallards and domestic ducks.
It was a pleasant but cloudy day last Friday at Granada Park when scores of pigeons flocked on the sidewalk bordering the lower pond's southern bank. Mallards and wigeons rested seemingly peacefully alongside those omnipresent and perpetually nervous rock doves. The ducks all seemed unperturbed by my appearance and some individuals even looked at me expectantly as if I might be there to feed them. "No, you've got the wrong guy," I thought, "I'm the one with the camera not the food."
Walking off the pathway as not to disperse this cluster of fowl, I noticed a bird that looked a little different from the others. Plain and drably colored, she was clearly a hen, but was smaller than the mallards and wigeons. In addition, it appeared she had a twin, resting close behind her. Noticing the distinctive white teardrop patch around their eyes, I quickly identified them as female wood ducks.
Like the lone male at the same park two years ago, this pair of ducks was flocking with the more common ducks that frequent the area. While they were both cautious and wary of me, one of them, with a slightly less distinctive teardrop, cowered behind the other and was faster to head toward the safety of the pond's water when I got too close. At one point, she opened her bill, pointing her gaping mouth pleadingly - hungrily? - toward the calmer duck's own bill. Was the nervous bird a juvenile hen, making her first migration close and secure by her mother's side?
Except for identifying them, I know very few exact details about the migratory birds that visit Phoenix' busy waterways: how long they stay, where they come from, how far they fly for breeding, how old they are. But the local wood ducks I've observed over the past several years have been lone individuals, finding temporary safety not in their own groups but in flocks of other ducks. And now I know a couple lucky birds get the company of their own kind - maybe even family - for at least a little while.
Last year I encountered another one swimming on the Arizona Canal that divides my Biltmore community in half. Like the individual from the previous year, he was in a group of mallards, and was standing out because of his diminutive size and bright plumage. He didn't stick around that part of the waterway for long, and was the last wood duck I'd see until I got lucky again at Granada Park last week.
I probably pass near this urban recreation space daily on my various drives throughout the city. In the winter, I like to stop by every ten days or so with my camera in case a migratory bird is visiting. I've been fortunate in my discoveries the last few years as I've photographed northern shovelers, common pintails, common mergansers, goldeneyes, canvasbacks, ring-necked ducks and American wigeons. These latter two birds are consistently diving and dabbling on one of the park's lakes as they regularly join the year-round residents that include mallards and domestic ducks.
It was a pleasant but cloudy day last Friday at Granada Park when scores of pigeons flocked on the sidewalk bordering the lower pond's southern bank. Mallards and wigeons rested seemingly peacefully alongside those omnipresent and perpetually nervous rock doves. The ducks all seemed unperturbed by my appearance and some individuals even looked at me expectantly as if I might be there to feed them. "No, you've got the wrong guy," I thought, "I'm the one with the camera not the food."
Walking off the pathway as not to disperse this cluster of fowl, I noticed a bird that looked a little different from the others. Plain and drably colored, she was clearly a hen, but was smaller than the mallards and wigeons. In addition, it appeared she had a twin, resting close behind her. Noticing the distinctive white teardrop patch around their eyes, I quickly identified them as female wood ducks.
Like the lone male at the same park two years ago, this pair of ducks was flocking with the more common ducks that frequent the area. While they were both cautious and wary of me, one of them, with a slightly less distinctive teardrop, cowered behind the other and was faster to head toward the safety of the pond's water when I got too close. At one point, she opened her bill, pointing her gaping mouth pleadingly - hungrily? - toward the calmer duck's own bill. Was the nervous bird a juvenile hen, making her first migration close and secure by her mother's side?
Except for identifying them, I know very few exact details about the migratory birds that visit Phoenix' busy waterways: how long they stay, where they come from, how far they fly for breeding, how old they are. But the local wood ducks I've observed over the past several years have been lone individuals, finding temporary safety not in their own groups but in flocks of other ducks. And now I know a couple lucky birds get the company of their own kind - maybe even family - for at least a little while.
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| Pair of female wood ducks at Granada Park in Phoenix. |
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| Male wood duck at Granada Park in 2018. |
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| Female wood ducks. The one in the back seems to have a slightly less developed teardrop eyering. |
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| Second wood duck at Granada Park in Phoenix. |
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| Female wood duck at Granada Park finding safety with a male American wigeon. |
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