Empty Nest

The muscovy mama duck built her nest in a nook in my patio. Such a sweet thing, though I’ve constantly cursed at her because she poops everywhere on the walkway to my apartment door and eats the cat food I leave out for one of the feral cats, I like to call Oreo.

At first, she would come and arrange the mulch and didn’t stay long, and then a few days passed and there were two or three eggs. Then there were more eggs each night, finally 10 or so. And then for almost 2 weeks she wouldn’t leave the nest. Even when the male ducks came to display how brutal mother nature is, fighting over which would get to take their turn on her. She wouldn’t leave, she’d go right back to nesting after chasing them off. I’d bring her little pieces of cat food and water and sit in the chair, excited to be a small part of this.

She would stand at times and lovingly move the eggs about. I imagined it was to make sure each got enough warmth and love and maybe even a chance to listen to her heartbeat, then she’d posture herself and settle snuggly back on top, gently splaying her wings out. It was beautiful.

Yesterday, when I left for work she seemed so content sitting on her nest and I remember thinking it’s almost time for those cute little fluffy babies to get here, it won’t be long now. 

When I arrived home after work and turned the corner, I looked to see her there, as we had always nodded almost as if greeting each other, but she wasn’t there. Her nest was empty and all the eggs were gone, just tiny little fluffs of fine down feathers strewn everywhere. I got happy thinking perhaps the babies were here. I rushed to get my key in the door and put my stuff down and came back outside to the porch to get a good look, excited that I’d get to see her with her little fluffers. 

She came around the corner and stood there looking at her nest, moving little pieces of mulch one at a time, making little noises, and then looked at me. I smiled and quietly asked where her babies were, she let out a few squeaky noises and looked around. 

I know it sounds crazy, but I swear she looked so sad as she just stood there gazing into her empty nest. 

I watched her last night as she stayed in the middle of the sidewalk, a couple smiling and laughing as they walked their playful black lab, they slowed down, but she was unmoving and without fear, so they walked around her, the pup struggling on its leash to get close to her.

My heart dropped, as the realization hit me, perhaps someone or something had found her little nest and moved the eggs. 

All night she would walk back and forth to the nest or stand next to the oak tree in front of the view of the lake closest to my porch. She didn’t interact with the other ducks, they would come by and squawk about and carry on, but she would quietly move away. She’d waddle back around the corner, letting out a few noises and then stop to look at the empty nest. 

My heart is saddened as I can sense confusion and emptiness. 

She is standing now by the big oak, preening her feathers and looking around, waiting there.  

A kingfisher stands nearby beating a small fish against the bank then angling its beak into the air to swallow his catch, whole. 

The sad little mama duck with her ruffled feathers lifts one leg and balances herself. The sun is hiding behind clouds, the rain is falling hard and there is a stillness in the air. 

This is one of the saddest moments in nature, I think I have ever witnessed.