Invasion: House Guests

By Whitney Hanna

Many of us had the pleasure (or the nuisance) of sharing our homes with friends or family over the holiday season.  These people invaded our living rooms, kitchens and bathrooms and left us feeling as though a tornado has passed through our lives. But when the dust has finally settled and the rest of the long winter has set in, we might miss the merry company that the season had created with such magnificent disarray.  The Mallards on Goodacre Lake are currently sharing their lives with an annual houseguest: a flock of Widgeons has come for the season. Go and take a look while they're here - the American Widgeon has descended on Beacon Hill Park. You need not be an ornithologist to find them; they are not hard to identify. These pretty birds are smaller than our usual Mallard ducks. The males have a smooth, graceful head that is white down the front and green on the sides. The females have neatly adapted a fashionably neutral brown colour that keeps them hidden while nesting. Amongst the newcomers you might spot one or two Eurasian Widgeons, these birds are similar to their American cousins but the males have a charming chestnut coloured head.

Yesterday, my husband and I went to the park in the afternoon. The pond was frozen over except for a portion in the middle where the fountain had kept the water moving enough so that it did not freeze. The birds were all floating in this spot, perhaps wondering why they had had a whole pond to swim in just a few days before and now the space they had to share had shrunk to such a diminutive size. Just think if while we were sharing our houses, they shrunk to just a portion of what they had been the day before. Some brave Mallards would hop up on the icy surface and attempt to walk about, looking for something to eat. Mallards are already known for their over-pronating gait but on a slippery surface they take the term "pigeon-toed" to a new level. One orange webbed foot takes an inward pointing step. The next foot, also inward pointing, is placed so close to the last one that it almost touches. In this awkward pace, the Mallard does not slip on the ice. One foot is always there to catch the last one. How interesting, that in Victoria (a city that almost closes down in ice and snow) our resident birds have so quickly learned how to deal with it.

I believe that they have adapted out of great necessity. You see, it is only the Mallards that seem to venture out onto the ice. The Widgeons, lovely, petite and graceful but ultimately just guests, are splashing and swimming in the still fluid portion of the pond. Our resident Mallards need their space, need to escape the din and difference created by these out-of-towners. They venture out onto this newly formed and unknown substance due to an essential need to get away. The Mallards take their time, their many uncomfortable steps across the ice and realize that this solitude may not be what they had hoped. For one thing, there are sticks and bumps in the ice that create a tripping hazard. For another thing, these birds are window shopping; the algae that they see is behind an impenetrable layer of glassy ice and not at all edible.

Suddenly the confusion and chaos back in the water doesn't seem so bad. The visitors swarming by the fountain are not aggressive, they are quiet and humble, they just take up room. Back in the water there is not only shared space but also shared food and company in a familiar environment. The resident Mallards do not stay out on the ice for long. They head back to the common water where there is little room but that's ok, there are still plenty of provisions to go around. Soon enough the Widgeons will be gone and everything will be as it was before. It will definitely be less crowded but maybe just a little bit lonesome.