The Duck Nest Beneath Our Mailbox
One afternoon in May, I walked to the mailbox and noticed something unexpected beneath the flowers growing around it: two eggs tucked into the mulch. After replanting the flower bed several weeks earlier, the area had quickly become one of my favorite parts of the yard, but I never imagined a surprise like this.
Initially, I had no idea what the eggs belonged to. The nest was hidden in one of the last places I would have expected to find it, and I spent the next few days wondering what kind of bird had chosen that spot. A neighbor eventually mentioned seeing a duck around the mailbox, and suddenly everything made sense.
Over the next week, more eggs appeared. What started as two eventually grew into a clutch of eight, and before long, the duck began spending more and more time on the nest. At first, she would leave for periods before returning, but as the weeks went by, she seemed to settle in for the long haul.
One of my favorite spots in the yard was hiding a surprise.
Before long, the duck became a familiar part of our front yard. As we watered plants, worked in the yard, or walked to the mailbox, we would often glance toward the nest to see whether she was there. Day after day, the scene looked much the same, and after a while it began to feel as though the eggs might never hatch. But of course, they did.
Nearly a month after I first discovered those two eggs, the moment we'd been waiting for finally arrived. One afternoon, my husband spotted something different beneath the duck's feathers and called me outside to take a look. Nestled beside its mother was a tiny duckling.
The moment we'd been waiting for.
After weeks of watching the nest from the yard and wondering when the eggs would hatch, seeing that first duckling felt exciting. What began as an unexpected discovery beneath a patch of flowers had turned into a month-long story, one that neither of us could have predicted when I first walked to the mailbox that day. Seeing that first duckling appear felt like the perfect ending.