The Thin Note Of Wood Ducks

Out punting along the shore of the lagoon one day, orchard orioles sang from time to time, and farther away, in high pinewoods beyond, crested flycatchers and red-bellied woodpeckers were calling. But, for the most part, the bird voices which we heard as we paddled along our serpentine watery path were the shrill whistles of ospreys who had built their bulky castles of sticks in cypresses beside our way, and the harsh voices of herons of several kinds—great blue and little blue herons, black-crowned and yellow-crowned night herons. More than once we heard the raucous cry of a great egret and saw a flash of wide snowy wings ahead of us as the tall bird took flight at our approach; again and again we heard the high, thin note of wood ducks winging like feathered projectiles in and out amid the tall, straight tree-trunks.

But these were all familiar sounds which I had heard many times before in that place and in other places, and they were not sufficient to break the spell of the lagoon, or to stir into full wakefulness my senses, drugged with the serene and dream-like beauty of the spot, rich with the untouched beauty of Nature. The sound that roused me was not made by the egrets, and I knew at once that they were not responsible for it. It was that sound which I described a moment ago as so inspiring to the lover of wild creatures—the sound of many wings surging through the air and lifting into flight an army of big birds, wild and fantastically beautiful. All at once, without warning of any kind, that surging sound of mighty pinions filled the air; and in an instant all the other sounds of the lagoon were forgotten, and the mental lethargy which the magic of its loveliness had cast upon me like a spell vanished as suddenly as a dream. For a moment the sound of wings seemed everywhere—behind us, on both sides, ahead, above.

It was as though the forest all around us had sprung suddenly to life—as though in every tree of the flooded woods great pinions were beating mightily. But this illusion lasted only for a moment; almost at once I knew that these wings were just ahead of us and to our right behind a tall screen of cypresses whose trunks stood so close together that there was no passage through them. Past this cypress barricade the water-lane wound in a long loop, and the punt shot forward at full speed so that we might swing round the dense barrier of the trees and see the open space beyond. In less than a minute we gained the edge of the open. All the while the sound of wings had continued, though in diminishing volume; and before I actually saw them I knew what it was that we were about to see—an army of wood ibises interrupted in their noon nap!

By: davidbunch

Article Directory: http://www.articledashboard.com

other articles: Adecco employment agency Disney cruise line jobs FBI agent requirements