Mother Duck(er)!
Lately, everywhere I look I am reminded of motherhood. I’m not talking about my own two children, who throughout the day bombard with laughter, complaints, demands, and chit-chat. Rather I’m talking about the wildlife with which my property is teeming. Everywhere I wander on my seven acres of heaven I am greeted by inspiring sights. Some are commonplace. Others I haven’t seen in a while. And a few are downright surprises. There are furry families and feathered ones and even one that could have easily been missed.
I’ll start with some of the more familiar sights. There is a beautiful doe and her spotted fawn frequenting the pastures. Sometimes when I’m out riding I spot the fawn nestled in and hidden by the tall grass waiting for mom to return from her foraging. Likewise, fluffy cottontail bunnies of all ages inhabit the brush in the far corners of the fields. They run for cover upon my approach. Then of course is the gaggle of Canada geese whose honking wakes me almost every morning as they forage around my front lawn. As soon as I head out the door they start waddling away. At least Mama goose has some help from Papa when it comes to wrangling her 11 adolescent goslings. And let’s not forget the little birds with the big voices. I can’t go a minute without hearing the sweet sweet sounds of the Wrens living in my garden. I must say I am enjoying watching the various little ones grow and find myself sympathizing with their overworked parents.
Now, this summer I’ve also been lucky to see some faces that haven’t been around for a while. I guess they got the memo that my big rescue Doberman has left the area for good. He was the protector of the land and a ferocious killer of anything that moved. In one day he could eradicate an entire woodchuck family. It would sadden me to find their chubby bodies scattered about the lawn. So this year imagine my shock to see a freshly dug hole inside my garden. It turns out they have a cozy spot under my chicken coop and a tunnel system that leads them to various locations on the property. At first, I was peeved but then I took some time to observe them. We’ve come to an understanding. They won’t go hungry or homeless as long as they stay out of the garden. I’ve decided to make offerings to appease the garden gods. Today the rotund mamma and her curious babes delighted in some watermelon. Yesterday it was corn. Tomorrow maybe it will be carrots. But I think the return of some other furry friends might keep their numbers in check. After all, the just-as-recently-returned red and gray foxes enjoy eating them as much as they delight in my chickens. This place is turning into a fairly tame wild kingdom and I dig it. (Get it? Woodchucks dig.)
Finally, just when I thought I’ve been blessed beyond belief I heard the distinctive call of a female wood duck. Once you learn the call you will never forget it. There she was with her tiny ducklings trailing behind her making tracks in the pond’s thick green algae layer. At first, I didn’t believe my eyes. Never in all my years living here have, I seen one on this pond. I soon learned that my family didn’t know about wood ducks and that got me to thinking that maybe others didn’t know about them either. So I figure I’ll share some information just in case some of you have never seen one as well.
A female wood duck in my opinion is gorgeous although her look differs greatly from her vividly painted male counterpart who needs all that flash to attract a mate. She is about 19 inches long and can have a wingspan about twice that length. She has a grayish-brown body with darker shaded feathers on her back and lighter plumage on her sides. But perhaps the most noticeable characteristics of the female are found on the head. She is a beauty with her crest of feathers at the back of it. Her features pop with a white ring around each eye and white feathers on her throat and chin. Of course, I could only notice these details by spotting her with my telephoto lens.
For approximately 2 weeks I’ve been observing this little mamma and her brood. Unlike other species of ducks, a wood duck lays her eggs in a nest that is not on the ground. As the name might suggest you can find these ducks in a wooded area. They can perch and prefer an empty tree cavity when it’s time to lay some eggs (by some I mean upwards of 16). After a few weeks, the ducklings hatch out already feathered and after 24 hours jump out of the nest to make their way to the pond where they will be raised. Imagine that! This mother is raising, by my count, a half dozen babes on the water.
Lately, the big family of little ducks has been enjoying some time on a huge rock that protrudes out of the middle of the pond. Every morning they pile on. Mom sits and preens while her tiny team members huddle together patiently waiting for her to finish. I call this her self-care hour. When she is thoroughly satisfied she plops into the water, her ducklings close behind her.
Photo by Mehmet Buyukdag @thirteennegatives
Needless to say, my morning observations of the family got me to think about motherhood and all the qualities a mommy duck possesses. I wonder if there is something I can learn from her that may make me a better mother. Mother duck appears to be all about her little ones. Sometimes she keeps them in line and then others she is swimming along with them piled on top of her. It’s so cute to see the tiny duckling heads peeking out from under her feathers. But lately, now that they are getting bigger, she is taking time for herself, and for that duration, the kids need to entertain themselves. Hmm….that’s an idea. Here is a mom that exudes a graceful dedication to her family. She provides comfort and protection without missing an opportunity to care for and express herself. Thanks, little mamma for giving me a whole lot to ponder.
Now, this story doesn’t end here. Remember I mentioned that one of the families I’ve seen could have easily been missed. Well, after one of my morning duck stalking sessions I walked back to the house so I could proceed with tidying up the front porch. Next to the door, leaning against the house, was a 40-pound bag of kitty litter. I picked it up and got quite the shock. A huge Wolf Spider was hiding behind it. I don’t startle easily but she caught me off guard. I say ‘she’ because when I got over myself I leaned down to get a better look. She was not alone. Her back was covered in baby spiders, hundreds of them!
A few facts about Wolf Spiders. Like their larger cousins Tarantulas, they don’t spin webs but rather make burrows. They patiently wait for prey to pass by the opening and grab it. So it’s no wonder that this doting super-mom attaches the eggs sac to her spinnerets so she can carry her unborn babes with her until they hatch. Once the spiderlings hatch they climb onto her back and stay there until they are fully developed, living off their egg yolks. For weeks they go everywhere with her and if one falls off, mom will stop what she is doing until it is back on top! I noticed this first hand. As I was watching her, my chickens were watching me. I was concerned that they might try to eat her so I decided to coax her to a more hidden location. As she was scurrying away a mini-me fell off and she abruptly stopped. It climbed back on and Mom continued to her new hiding spot. Seeing this amazing mother brought to mind the giant sculpture Maman made by the artist Louise Bourgeois in honor of her mother, a weaver. Although the spider she depicted was a web-spinning one, the symbolic meaning of motherhood is much the same. The sculpture has a giant eggs sac holding 32 marble eggs. I highly recommend learning her story. It is heart-wrenching.
Possibly I identify with this artist and her story because my mom was skilled at the fiber arts of knitting and crocheting and she like the spider was a doting mother. Also, I lost her suddenly and unexpectedly. But enough about that. This is a contemplation on what these wild mothers are teaching the mother me. If the duck teaches me grace, comfort, protection, and expression what could a burrowing spider possibly offer? Well, a lot.
Wow! That resonates. I particularly like the statements “Turn inward, be brave, and trust that you are safe. There is no better companion to have to accompany you on any forays into the unconscious to uncover the meaning behind WHY you do the things you do” and “Spider spirit animal can help you navigate the darkness and the fears and view them from a new, less threatening perspective”. It’s as though the Wood Duck and Wolf Spider represent both ends of the motherhood spectrum. Grace and expression at one end. Introspection and fear at the other.
But we aren’t like a duck who spends a few months with her offspring or a spider whose job is done after a few weeks. No, for a human, the role as a mother usually lasts for decades (even though we can technically be done after 18 years). And unlike the animals, we are not merely trying to guarantee our survival and that of our species. Some of us have interests other than our children (no a job doesn’t count unless you truly love what you do). We have dreams and ambitions. Or at least I hope we do. After all, one day our bundles of joy will grow up and leave the nest. Then without those other focuses, we will only have survival to fill our time. However we worry that if we pursue all those outside interests then our children might not get our undivided attention. After all, we want them to follow and achieve their dreams and so many of us sacrifice our own. But if we don’t pursue our own then we very likely won’t have an identity other than a parent. Oh yes! Motherhood is both physically and psychologically taxing. Well, at least it is for me.
Sometimes I envy the other animals out there. They know their objective. Find a mate, produce offspring, keep them alive, and send them on their way. Repeat. They don’t dream of something more. They don’t have all the rules, judgment, and fears of failure that plague humans. But we, with our higher functioning brains, are constantly being overloaded with input and feedback. These experts say to do this. That one says don’t. Ughh…. I think I’m not alone in fearing that I’m messing up in some way. That maybe I’m not doing the best for my kids. My oldest doesn’t try hard enough in school even though he has the natural intelligence to do so but not the drive. My youngest still whines when she doesn’t get her way even though after years of speech therapy she can easily articulate her needs. I often think that maybe they get too much screen time or not enough fresh produce. But I try. Unfortunately, technology is far more interesting than any other activities we have around here. And french fries are far tastier than a salad. Oh, how I try! My only hope is that they are absorbing some of the knowledge and skills I am silently imposing upon them. Maybe one day when they are grown they will eat the vegetables without complaining and with any luck, they will be growing the food themselves. After all, I was once a picky eater who abhorred getting dirty and coming into contact with any sort of bug. How times have changed! Thanks, mom for setting the example. I can still see her bent over in her garden pulling weeds, sweat dripping down her face, and never looking happier.
Then I think back to their younger years and how I doted on them and tended to their every need. Those were the days that I didn’t dare take my eyes off them for fear that something terrible might happen. Sometimes those things still managed to happen right before my eyes. Like when my son a little over a year suffered from a febrile seizure and had to be taken by ambulance to the hospital. Or when at 7 years old he jumped off the playground at the park and broke his elbow. I just got done telling him to not jump off of anything. I watched from below with his sister in my arms. Then there was the time I wasn’t fast enough to grab a toddler Hannah before she gripped a handful of the old border collie’s hair. The result was a trip to urgent care and two stitches in her nose. Or the time my husband was playfully swinging her and her elbow dislocated. If that wasn’t bad enough she dislocated it two more times that month for reasons that defy logic. I felt like such a failure walking back into the pediatrician’s office. I was certain the doctor was going to report me. The only thing I could do during those situations was to comfort my kids as they suffered through their discomfort and be grateful for the fact that the injuries were minor. So many worse things can happen to a child. So much tragedy can befall adult children too. I hope I never have to experience any of the heartaches my parents had to endure.
I think about Mama Wood Duck. Did she feel fear when her day-old ducklings leaped from the nest? Did she try to catch them? No, I bet she stood below waiting for each of them to leap. Maybe she hatched a dozen eggs but only half of the ducklings managed to survive the hazards of life as a duckling. How about Mama Spider? When her spiderlings reach the size that they can no longer pile up onto her back for easy transport, she does not think of a way to contain them. No, she lets them go off to be their spiders. Both mothers do their best to keep their young safe and alive during their short stints in motherhood filled with trials and tribulations. I do my best too. But I’m trying to do the best for my children while also trying to do the best for myself. Somedays that is no easy balancing act. Fortunately, I have my animal guides to help me make sense of it all.
If I’ve learned anything from this wondering about motherhood it’s that the best is all you can do and your best will be determined by your circumstances. I am fortunate to have a life that allows me to live beyond survival. I can try to make my bigger dreams come true (although a nanny and dish fairy might free up more time). So many of my fellow humans do not have that luxury while others squander their time and resources without ever achieving anything worthwhile. But that is a subject I am ill-equipped to handle. I am only an expert on myself or at least I attempt to be. It’s a learning curve. For now, all I can do is model the Wood Duck’s graceful expression of calm and caring while accompanying the Wolf Spider on a trip deep within myself to understand why I do what I do. I’ll let you know if I ever figure it out.
Mama Wolf Spider and family
