Out on a Limb

Yesterday,  we noticed something very strange happening up in the big pine tree off the side of the house. 

One of our ducks was standing in it. 











 Below, her brothers and sisters gazed up at her with longing and envy.  You could tell that all of them yearned to be up on that tree limb, scoping out the pond from on high.  But only one had made it.  And that little Muscovy hen was excessively pleased with herself.







Uber excessively pleased! 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     



The drakes



 Muscovies can fly for short distances, but the drakes are about twice the size as the hens so they don't become airborne easily (especially as they get older and fatter).  There was little hope that the boys could get their hefty bottoms up there, but I could tell by the way the way they were studying the situation that they were nervously considering giving it a try.  In the end, though, reason must have prevailed because they gave up and wandered off.



The hens



Then these two little hens moved into position.  They had definite intentions of  joining their sister. 



Note the claws digging into the bark



It took some psyching up, but the braver of the two finally got up the nerve to launch herself into the tree.  Unfortunately, her aim was a little off and she landed farther up, plastered against the trunk. 

She didn't give up, though, and kept flapping as she worked on getting a grip on the tree with her claws.





This is one determined duck.  She continued beating her wings and doing her best to stick to the side of the tree, no doubt wondering what the other duck did to make it look so easy.

Meanwhile, the duck on the limb looked up at her with interest and with what I hope was encouragement.  But maybe it was amusement.  You never know with a duck.

The white hen finally managed to brace herself up against the almost vertical surface by using her tail for leverage. She clung there motionless for about a minute before deciding that tree-roosting wasn't as much fun as she thought it would be.  Then she, too, gave it up and flapped back down to the others.

Then the whole group of siblings marched off down the path together in duckish solidarity.   At the edge of the embankment, one after the other, they took off for the short soar and splash down into the pond...

..leaving the tree duck all by her little lonesome.  She had decidedly less confidence without her admiring public. 





I went down to the pond side of the tree to see what she looked like from down there.  Quite noble, I think; but she was getting more and more worried as she watched the others swimming in the pond.  She stood on that limb for another ten minutes or so, from time to time calling everyone to come back. 

They didn't. 



So our own little Frogpond Icarus decided it was time to leave her place high in the air (relatively speaking)...




 







  ...and splash back down into the water below.