The Story of “Lil’ d”
As the snow began to melt, the purple crocuses burst through the soil gasping for air, and sleeves transformed from long to short, I took up my daily early morning ritual of visiting my neighborhood park in Montréal, Parc La Fontaine. However, this year was unlike no other. The world was in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. Our streets were deserted – cafés, terraces, shops and restaurants were closed for business – and the urban soundscape was devoid of that familiar hum of commuter traffic.
Each time I crossed the bike path to step foot in the park, a feeling of gratitude would wash over me. I had an urge to "COVID-19 elbow bump" that person or project team who had the foresight to preserve this natural oasis in the heart of our urban and residential neighbourhood.
My early morning park ritual often begins with a brief stop to get my "birder news flash" from a few local ornithologists (i.e. 5 baby ducklings just fell from that tree and a merlin has taken up residence this week). Not only was I previously unaware that ducks lay eggs in trees, but I also had no idea that falcons made this park their home.
One morning toward the end of May, I was in my zealous arm-swinging stride and I spotted something rather unusual. There was a family of mallard ducklings huddled together next to their mom on the side of the pond. However, one of the ducklings was surely not like the others. He (gender still TBD) was a bright yellow colour while all of the other ducklings had feathers of lush browns, beige, and black. Of course, my first thought was, "Is there such a thing as an albino duck? Or, did this little guy lose his way and find himself adopted by a new family?" I was intrigued and absolutely needed to know more. The questions, they just kept a com'n. "Were his siblings and parents aware that he did not look like others? Would they treat him any differently?" Alas, my daily exercise route transformed into an obligatory citizen science session of duck ethnography, which started to make me feel like the Jane Goodall of the waterfowl.
In June and July, I started photographing and taking notes on what I was observing about "Lil' d" (my nickname for him), his family, and their interaction. Based on what I'd observed, "Lil' d" blended right in there with his siblings and didn't seem to be ostracized or treated any differently from the others.
As time went on, I learned that "Lil' d" had a look-alike yellow sibling in early May who had "magically disappeared." Unfortunately, baby ducklings have far more predators than I ever imagined and hawks and falcons are not the only usual suspects. I was shocked and slightly horrified to learn that even seagulls and squirrels prey on baby ducklings. Who knew? I sure didn't and I have not been able to look at a squirrel the same way since. It's for this reason that ducks often lay their eggs inside trees for them to hatch. The mother ducks even drop off a few eggs in another mother's nest in case their own nest gets attacked. Surprisingly, the mother duck never comes back for the eggs she dropped off in the other nest and the new mom raises the ducklings as her own. Fascinating! I learned this information from a Nature documentary on ducks, which I was of course compelled to watch. I was starting to feel like detective Kerrigan was on her way to discovering how "Lil d" wound up looking so different from his siblings. However, my theory was debunked by one of the local ornithologists in the park, who explained that it's more a result of a genetic mutation. So, the jury is still out on "Lil' d" 's genealogy, backstory and genetics.
During the pandemic, many local residents have turned to Parc La Fontaine for exercise, respite, relaxation, playing music, socializing at distance, and educating their kids. "Lil d" has become a bit of a waterfowl celebrity, because he's visible from clear across the pond and rather tough to miss. Kids and adults alike have been fascinated by his arrival and rooting for him to make it into adulthood and blossom (especially for those who know the fate of his former sibling). Several members of his fan club have even chosen their own names for him such as "Jaune Val Jaune", “Coco”, "Junior", "Duckster", "Henrietta", “Blondin”, and of course, "Lil' d". During my frequent photography sessions, I've met several of his fans that enjoy recounting his latest progress, quirky personality traits and escapades around the pond. In this time of a worldwide health crisis, economic turmoil, and social unrest, "Lil d" seems to be giving people an underdog to root for and a momentary escape from the negative news and challenging reality of the day. In fact, I've met a handful of people who deliberately started taking regular walks around the pond to pay him a visit and make sure he was still there.
From his early days, he seems to have been blessed with substantial self-knowledge and knew he was a bit challenged in the camouflage department, leaving him more vulnerable to local pray. I observed that whenever his mallard family gathered together, he rarely would sit on the end. In fact, in his early days, he snuggled his way right in to the middle of his five siblings or at least was sure to rarely sit on the end. His wingspan was less developed than the others, so he often just didn't have the ramp up speed and flight power to propel himself up to the pond's concrete ledge. As a result, he spent more time in the water and became a champion speed paddler, expert diver, and successful food forager. I have not been alone in observing that he appears to be more independent and curious than his siblings. Furthermore, he becomes easily restless and seems to enjoy venturing out into unchartered territory.
It's now July 15th and I'm happy to report that "Lil d" is not so little anymore. He has grown by leaps and bounds and his feathers have transformed from yellow to the colour of fresh fallen snow. If he decides to stick around for the Montréal winter, his camouflage prospects will surely be much brighter (with the appropriate footwear and beak cover, of course). He has made great progress in successfully finding his way up to most of the pond ledges to join his other siblings and mother mallard for the frequent daily family snooze fests. Of course, there's still the occasional ledge that presents some challenges, but I have a feeling that by the end of the summer, there will be no ledge he can't climb.
The journey of this endearing and unique little duck has brought so much delight to so many in a time where hope and joy are desperately needed. Merci "Lil d" et à bientôt!
This piece is dedicated to all the "odd ducks" out there. May your way of seeing and experiencing the world differently turn out to be one of your greatest strengths.