Today, I witnessed the complete mating ritual of my favorite animal, the mallard duck.
Yes, that’s right. My favorite animal is not some hulking mass of alpha predator, not even a deadly bird of prey. It’s the modest duck. (Well, the ladies are modest. The men do kind of have those shimmering green heads.)
“Qak qak,” was among my very first words, according to my mother, who strolled baby Dane around for ample fresh air in our native northern New Jersey geography—the meadowlands.
Waterfowl, including geese, swans, and ducks, have not only been an ever-present feature of my life, but one that’s demanded my attention before I even formed a personality.
Some would call that a spiritual connection.
Some would call those people cornballs.
I say be whichever kind of person you damned well feel like being.
Anywho!
When I visit other areas of the world, I’m always interested to see what kinds of birds live there. I’m no birder, birdwatcher, or bird-freak, but I do have a healthy habit of staring at certain kinds of birds (mostly waterfowl) to help myself relax on a park bench.
For me, those swamp-dwelling birds are the most versatile. To a great extent, they are unbound by travel limitations: they live on the water, in the air, and on the land. Be humbled! We humans didn’t have their abilities until the 1900s, and most of us can’t exactly take to the skies on a whim. They’ve had their full range of capabilities since duck number one.
Think how hardy waterfowl are! In the bitter winters of North America, they are swimming around on mostly-frozen lakes, even sleeping in the water. For the far northern Canada Geese, freezing cold New Jersey is “going south.” Some East Coast mallards travel as far south as Florida… but I prefer the Jersey die hards.

#Respect
That’s my riff.
Let’s talk about [duck] sex.
It all began with a dance.

A large group of birds was floating around my corner of the pond, searching for food or fishing for algae, I suppose. But after a while, they all drifted out of the local area, save for a duo of dazzling ducks.
I imagine they gave each other a side eye and a smirk, indicating that “the coast is clear!” And with it, the man set off on his head-bobbing dance.
He shot his head up and recoiled it back down, repeating this in time and on beat like a talented percussionist. His bill even made a kind of song as it smacked the water on the downbeat, and dripped water into a splash on the upbeat.
Then, being satisfied that DJ Duck was dropping some fire, the female joined in the head-bobbing ritual herself, and they performed it together, floating in circles around a point-in-common.
Curiously, neither of them seemed to care one iota about the giant ape-like thing sitting 10-feet away at the water’s edge. (Me.) Guess that’s why they call easy victims “sitting ducks.” These ducks just don’t give a fuck!
After a short period of head-bob-dancing together, the female bowed her head, elongated her neck forward, and aligned her bill parallel to the water.
Then, to my genuine surprise, they did not speed off to some covert location in the brush.
The sex began right there, in the water.
The male climbed on her back carefully and situated himself for penetration, riding her like a pool floater. Only the tip of her bill could stay above the surface-line, and just barely. It dunked underneath the water several times as the champ got down to business.
They proceeded to do it "ducky style" (doggy style while floating in water). I think I've coined this, and expect ample royalties from all the leading pornography sites.
Soon, the other ducks returned (three pairs). And then it was time for the post-sex rituals—aka the make the other ducks jealous routine—to begin.
After copulation, the female made a motion like a dolphin cresting the waterline, piercing the water with her bill and cascading it across her back. I wouldn't mistake this for a "cleansing" ritual. On the contrary, she seemed plenty satisfied. It must help carry/thrust the sperm in the right direction.
She then gave a triumphant flourish of her wings, demonstrating the hidden beauty of her blue, black and white markings, normally tucked away beneath her brown, camouflaged feathers. They were like deep blue stripes on a muscle car.
She repeated this process again: several dolphin motions to cascade the water across her back, a shake of her tail-feather, then a flourish of wings.
When she expanded her wings it was as if she stood on land, but she was not in shallow water. Though she was floating, she brought her chest remarkably high off the water and held her wings out for long enough to say, "Behold me! Creatrix of life!"
She performed her dolphin motion a few times more, then joined her mate in leaving the area and the other ducks behind, as a pair.
-Fin-
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Dane Curley