Our marshy end of the lake does not suffer a lack of birds.
From sparrows to herons to ospreys to chickadees to loons – they’re all here. Recently we’ve become home to a seemingly ever-expanding cadre of ducks.
Like most, they’re skittish, scrubby brown and not too shy in the noise department.
One of the group recently caught our eye. Until a few weeks ago he (or she) wasn’t around, but now he’s hard to miss. Why?
This duck is white. Full on, fairy tale book, drawn-for-kids white with a yellow bill.
He seems to be integrating pretty well, beyond the fact that our friend Tim (aspiring birder) has discovered that we’re “almost 100% sure it can’t fly.”
Like any lakeside Mainer worth his salt, P has a good pair of binoculars down at the dock house, and has taken to stalking the white duck.
As long as he doesn’t break out the harpoon gun, I think we’re okay.
Moby Duck in his natural habitat