An Easter Duck Story

We've all heard of the Easter Bunny, the human-sized hare that brings children chocolate rabbits, jelly beans, and egg-shaped confections in colorful baskets on Easter morning.  However it was an entirely different animal, a wood duck, that was on my mind this Easter Sunday.

My runs and walks through my Phoenix neighborhood mostly follow the Arizona Canal and pass through several adjacent parks with large ponds.  As a result, I enjoy birdwatching while getting exercise, spying the egrets and kingfishers that call the waterways home at least part of the year.  

Among several uniquely winter visitors are wood ducks that usually make their appearances as lone individuals, first arriving in December.  I'll spot one and observe him for a week, sometimes two, before he disappears, hopefully moving on to another habitat.  More than a week ago, I saw a male, or drake, in the company of a pair of mallards at Granada Park.  Shortly after, I spotted them again, not too far away, along the canal near Maryland Ave.  I was happily reminded of one of my first sightings of the bird, fours years ago, also around Eastertime.

Male wood duck on the Arizona Canal, Easter morning.

The male wood duck, while a small waterfowl, is strikingly beautiful, with crisp white stripes, an emerald head tapered with a mane-like trail of feathers, intense red eyes, and a chestnut breast and neck.  In bright light, he's a burst of color and elegant style.  Having not photographed one in a while, I decided to drive to the canal after one of my morning runs with my heavy 400mm zoom lens in tow.

However the recently-seen wood duck was nowhere to be found: not along the canal south of Maryland Ave, or in the opposite direction north, or even on either of Granada Park's two ponds.  Disappointed, I photographed instead a pair of seemingly inseparable and poised white ducks with identical black markings.  Later, I identified the unique birds as Ancona ducks, a domestic breed known for its egg-laying ability - up to 280 per year! - and its tasty meat.  As a vegetarian, I'll take my source's word on the latter detail.

Ancona ducks, a domestic breed, on the lower of two ponds at Granada Park.

I noticed that the other seasonal visitors like shovelers, wigeons, and ring-necked ducks were also absent from the body of water.  They must have all, including the wood duck, taken the cue and flown north for the summer.  However a couple of subsequent runs later - of course without my camera - brought additional sightings of the wood duck, always in the company of a mallard pair comprising a male and female.  

It is breeding season for mallards along the local waterways.  In fact on yet another camera-less morning run, I encountered the wood duck on the pond, joined by a larger number of mallards.  And a hundred feet beyond my colorful friend, across the pond, a tight flock of ducklings swam unaccompanied by parents from what I could tell.

After seeing the wood duck yet again two days later on my Easter morning run, I quickly showered and drove over to Granada Park with my camera in tow.  While he was no longer on the pond, the Ancona ducks were as devoted as ever and the six - I got close enough to count them - ducklings were mercifully tended to by two adults.

Female mallard and her six ducklings on the lower pond at Granada Park.

There was no activity on the canal north of Maryland Avenue, however cliff swallows darted under the street's bridge.  When they weren't making forays to hunt for insects close to the water's surface, they were collecting mud for building concrete-clinging nests.  These long-distance migrants are just arriving for their own breeding season in sharp contrast to most of the before-mentioned waterfowl, the exception of which I was still seeking.

Luckily, I didn't have to look far; just a couple of hundred feet south of the bridge swam my subject.  Unsurprisingly, he was with a male and female mallard.  Actually he was following the female while the male observed.  As I snapped shots, the wood duck mewled, whimpering slight whistles.  He was clearly not a quacker.

Mallards are quite tolerant of people, especially the ones who regularly feed the local waterfowl.  In fact, the female probably hoped for some food and waddled up the canal bank to join me on the dirt trail.  Of course the wood duck was barely a foot behind her, while the male mallard continued to paddle against the canal's current in order to hold his position nearby.  

Male wood duck with female mallard along the Arizona Canal.

Male wood duck with female mallard along the Arizona Canal.

I couldn't help but think the ducks were begging; after all the days spent pursuing a photo of the wood duck, I felt like I owed the creatures something.  With many years of putting out suet, sugar water, seeds and oranges in my back yard for the neighborhood birds, I was about to graduate to the ranks of one of those persons who feeds the ducks.  Googling 'duck food' brought up oats, seeds, and frozen peas, among a long list of other healthy morsels.  (Remember, no bread!)  I needed to pick up some groceries nearby - why not add a package of peas to the list?

Ten minutes later I was back at the same spot along the canal, and fortunately so were the ducks.  I tossed some peas in the water, and both the wood duck and female mallard tried one.  The mallard quickly spit it out, while the wood duck chewed a bit before rejecting the smashed vegetable.  Maybe they didn't like them frozen, so I tried to thaw a few in the warmth of my hand.  No, the birds still didn't like the peas.  And by the way, self-possessed as ever, the male mallard wasn't even curious enough to try one. 

I have a theory that had the wood duck been alone, maybe he'd have eaten the peas.  It looks like he's following the lead of the female mallard: shadowing her from pond to canal to pond and up the embankment, always close behind her.  Does he hope to pair up for the breeding season by being a sycophant?  

Technically the two species can mate and produce infertile hybrid offspring.  However successful wood duck parents nest in holes in trees that usually surround wooded swamps, uncommon in the desert landscape of southern Arizona.  And with a male mallard in close proximity and surely possessing some limit to his patience, the wood duck is barking up the wrong tree. 

Will the wood duck get the message and leave town in time to find a suitable mate?  Most wood ducks arriving at breeding grounds are usually already paired.  And most mallards stick around their Phoenix waterway homes year round, so I doubt the female has the instinct to migrate.

Hopefully the confused wood duck will sort things out.  I've seen lone female wood ducks at the Granada Park pond, so maybe a stray will show up as a companion.  Not only is it Easter, but it is also Passover and Ramadan.  If now is not the time to have a little faith, when will it ever be?

Male wood duck on the Arizona Canal near Granada Park, Easter morning.