Watching a Duck Dance on Water for Love
Male Cinnamon Teal. By Kris Cochran
I start each day with the same question.
“How will love show up in my life today?”
It’s an intentional practice, like exercising, and eating fresh, whole food. As a result, I’m happier, more creative, and dropping far fewer dollars in the swear jar.
A little, red-eyed duck was my inspiration.
I’m in the mood for love. By Kris Cochran
Cinnamon Teals are challenging to photograph. If one duck hears a human noise, he flies. Instantly, his friends in the flock follow. They also look out for one another when feeding. One Cinnamon leads, stirring up the water. Those swimming along behind dine on a fine meal of aquatic vegetation and insects.
Sadly, the number of Cinnamon Teals has dwindled to less than four hundred thousand for all of Western North and South America. Compare that to ten million Mallards in North America.
I spend hours at a nearby wetland in the early summer looking for Cinnamons. When they return home to Idaho to nest, I have hope there is still time to love our world back to abundance.
In the summertime. Market Lake Wildlife Management Area, Idaho. By Kris Cochran
In twenty minutes, I can be at Market Lake Wildlife Management Area in Roberts, Idaho, where I’m most likely to find a small flock of Cinnamons. Over five thousand acres of wetland have been set aside for migrating waterfowl and shorebirds. This ancient floodplain of the Snake River supports over 250 species, from small mammals to moose.
I rarely see another human at Market Lake on weekday evenings. I can hike along the main waterway slowly and softly without disturbing the waterfowl.
One summer evening, I had a rare glimpse into the mystery of the mating ritual of a pair of Cinnamons. They were falling in love and never noticed me behind my camera.
Isn’t that how love is?
In the Cinnamons’ world, the female chooses her mate. When she swims in front of a lone male, it’s a signal she might give the guy a chance.
That sly, come-hither stare… By Kris Cochran
Once the female shows interest, the male must prove he’s worthy of guarding a nest. Their purpose is family.
Let’s give them something to talk about. By Kris Cochran
I have no idea what he said to her in duck, but she didn’t pump her head and open her bill to signal rejection. Instead, she seemed to be smiling.
So far, so good, I thought. We might have a match.
I watched them circle each other a while, confident he had sealed the deal. Then the female suddenly turned, swam away, and left him alone in the stream.
Come back to me. By Kris Cochran
It broke my heart to hear him calling to her as she vanished into the reeds. We need all the little Cinnamons we can get.
That’s when he proved his worthiness to nest with her.
I would do anything for love. By Kris Cochran
With the grace of a ballet dancer, he leaped above the water with his duck style Grand Jeté and held his pose of prowess.
This ultimate display of the mating ritual is called a “jump flight.” I call it “dancing on water.” I’ve never seen a more beautifully staged ballet than the one choreographed by nature for the Cinnamons.
She must have been watching from the shadow of the reeds because she swam back to him.
Reunited. By Kris Cochran
Later, when I edited the photos, I noticed a drop of water on the tip of her beak. Is that a duck kiss?
I say yes. It’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
They cruised around the corner into a side channel, and my time with the couple ended.
The trail along the side channel was chained off from hiking and posted “Do Not Enter Breeding Ground.”
I didn’t need a sign to keep me from disturbing the rare little ducks. I want to walk softly beside them for the rest of my life.
And a few weeks later….
Isn’t she lovely? By Kris Cochran
On a still summer evening about a month later, I spotted Mama Cinnamon teaching her chick to swim in the protected waters of Market Lake.
I love a happy ending, and I believe there is one for each of us.
May love show up in your life every day.
May you dance on water.
Thanks for walking with me,
Kris
