Nature Journalism - The Mallards
“We must have time to think and to look and to consider. And the modern process - that of looking quickly at the whole field and then diving down to a particular - was reversed by Darwin.”
In the earliest hours of my Monday morning, just as the sun began its ascent over the ever-present blanket of clouds, my Walden served as an unexpected sanctuary for a pair of mallards. The male made his presence known first. He emerged out of the brush and then slowly waddled his way into the center of the courtyard as if he were a weary traveler. I could feel myself holding my breath as I watched; my hands tightening around my lukewarm cup of tea. Although he took several glances in my direction, his eyes never found mine. They were drawn elsewhere; back down the driveway towards the brush he seemingly materialized from. My breath evened as I followed his line of sight and was greeted by his mate. She wasn’t nearly as brazen as the first mallard. Perhaps he was given the important task of making sure the coast was clear? The female mallard pulled herself onto the concrete, gave a little shake of her feathers, and then began the journey across the courtyard to where the male positioned himself right at its center. It was around this time that my parents joined me in my Walden; exchanging hushed comments of admiration for the mallards before eventually positioning themselves on either side of me.
As we stood on the porch watching their reunion, a thought occurred to me: the closest body of water happened to be nearly five miles away from our home. Surely, they belonged elsewhere. Belonging. Recently that word has tasted a bit sour in my mouth. Like the mallards bravely making their way through the courtyard, I’ve begun to wonder where I’m supposed to be in this next chapter of my life. While I will always treasure my three years spent going to school in Los Angeles, I’ve come to the conclusion that I won’t be returning after graduation. It felt momentary; like at any moment my life could switch directions and I would get pulled right along with it (the pandemic made that thought a reality). At the same time, I didn’t feel like I belonged back with my parents in Bellevue either. Upon seeing the mallards, I immediately considered what had to have gone wrong for them to make an appearance in my Walden. So I ask of you, is feeling a sense of belonging something that happens naturally, or is it something we’re taught to consider? I’m not sure if I’ll ever discover the answer but I think there’s a good chance that the mallards I saw must have some idea of where they come from and where they should be…. they kept going until they walked around the house and disappeared into the forest that makes up my backyard.