Life in the city is quite different from life in a small rural area. Of course, most of these differences are easily seen and logical. The company that owns this apartment complex has several staff members on site, but their job descriptions only cover certain areas. When it comes to landscaping, mowing, gutters and roof repair and pond maintenance, those jobs are farmed out to companies who specialize in that particular field.
This place has three bodies of water. One lake and two ponds, according to the city. According to the country bumpkin, one large pond, one small pond and a puddle. Anyway, a year ago, the pond maintenance man, aka pond guy, brought six domestic ducks to the property. Two white ducks, three dark colored, nearly black ducks and one grey duck. One of the black ducks took up residence at the lake and immediately hit it off with one of the wild geese. These two have been inseparable ever since. The other five formed a gang, or gaggle if you will, and spent the majority of their time wandering around one of the ponds or in the back yards between the apartment buildings.
This past year has not been kind to the ducks. One of the white ducks was the leader of the pack until mutiny struck the group. For some reason, the other four took matters into their own wings and literally beat the feathers off the leading white duck. It later succumbed to its wounds. Throughout a period of about six months, four of the ducks became victims of careless drivers either not paying attention, or simply not caring.
Only one duck remains, the grey one, aka, Mr. Quackers. Mr. Quackers obviously learned something while his comrades where being mowed down because he spends all his time in or near the small pond. His days are spent in search of food floating just below the waters' surface or sleeping peacefully near the pond's edge, with his beak tucked under one wing. Sometimes when he is skimming across the water, he quacks. Whether he is just quacking to hear himself quack, or sending out a plea for some companionship is a mystery. It could be that being king of the pond has grown old with no friends to share it with.
The answers received as to why domestic ducks do not fly ranged from them just being happy were they are and choosing not to, being too tired because of all the disco dancing, or being too fat. Although they can fly for very short distances, the latter of the answers proved to be correct. They are bred to be heavier and their wings can't support them in flight for very long. This fact proves to keep Mr. Quackers lonely in the small pond. If he would just rise to the occasion, no pun intended, he would see that the lake is within walking distance and there are always water fowl of some kind at its shore.
Hopefully, the new year will bring about new changes for Mr. Quackers. He was seen the other day with a small flock of geese, walking right in the middle of them. When they entered the water of the small pond, Mr. Quackers held his rank and continued to join in on the swim. But, the very next day, Quackers was all by himself again.
Change is hard, even scary. Shake out the wings and tail feathers and put one foot in front of the other. Don't be a lonesome duck.
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