Who remembers that childhood book about the momma duck and her little ones in Boston. Last Thursday Joe and I were driving to National Airport [I refuse to use the new name] and found that traffic had halted on the 4-lanes where my street, Washington Blvd., crossed over I-66. Was there a traffic accident? Had that bus broken down? If so, why weren't the cars behind it passing? As we got closer, I saw a mallard duck (female) in the road, scooting from the center line back toward the curb. Then: Ducklings! She was encouraging her 11 little fluffies that it is okay to walk on this non-grassy hard thing . . . "just follow me". And so they did, with the help of a large man who had stopped all the cars in my lane.
Momma had no trouble crossing and then hopping up on the curb. But the curb was twice the height of the little ones. They walked toward my car - hoping, I suppose, for a break in the "wall". Eventually with Momma's encouragement the duckling leader gave a great leap and flapped his tiny undeveloped wings, scrabbled with his little feet and made it over the curb. And so the rest followed, and onward they went, across the sidewalk, under the guardrail, and down the grassy slope on the other side. And we drove on toward the airport. Here are three photos of the adventurous ducklings.
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