Yon Duck:
Yon Duck
The duck, one day, appeared. Perched on the concrete apron under the beach showers, she sat, disdainfully observing the passers-by. When anyone approached, she rose to her full height, wings outstretched, and fluttered a few yards away from the intruder. As most who spend any time in south Florida in the winter know, these Muscovy ducks are seen most everywhere. Black-feathered with crimson markings about their beak, they are an odd looking species.
In the days that followed, she became a curiosity and neighbours in our building took up regular surveillance. I christened her Yon Duck.
Meanwhile, progress encroached on Yon Duck’s adopted habitat. Hollywood Beach was in the throes of a major renovation of the broad pedestrian walkway that borders the beach, known as the Broadwalk. Light standards and pavement were uprooted and removed to make way for a new wall and walking path and a ribbon of palms. Through it all, Yon Duck remained, and continued her dominion over any and all that approached.
From time to time, she would slowly waddle across the Broadwalk to take shelter under Donny’s truck. Sometimes, when I left at 6:30 in the morning, I could see her there…snuggled up tight, wings tucked in. At other times we watched her cross the Broadwalk to pay a visit to Booby.
Booby is the most gorgeous Siamese cat – honey-colored with black flashes at her tail tip. Until Yon Duck arrived, Booby imperiously ruled this section of the Broadwalk. Her master, Elmer, would often sit with her on the seawall that abounded the edge of their property and most who walked by would comment on her beauty.
Now, I haven’t myself, seen this – but I’m told reliably as fact, that once in a while, Yon Duck makes this short journey down the sidewalk to the entrance to Boobys garden (a most delightful cultivation of palms, rich flora and potted plants which Elmer has constructed there), and, with a quick backwards glance, enter that enchanted space through the portico.
But, thus far, none of us has been privy to their conversation. Fortunately, and encouragingly, their discussions have been conducted in quietude and peacefully. There has been, thus far, no furious flapping of wings, nor enraged yowls from Booby.
Determined to respect their privacy, we, who stand around and watch, will usually drift away. For we don’t ever know how long these meetings might last. Thus, none of us have ever actually seen Yon Duck emerge from the Enchanted Garden.
But – she does….and all of a sudden, there she is again. Poised beneath the showerhead.
Some of us have discovered that she likes to drink from freshly pooled water which collects on the shower apron. So, we will tentatively approach her, in order to activate the faucet.
She, of course, moves away. None of us get particularly close. Except, perhaps, Carroll. But then, she is possessed of a mystical magical ability to commune with all nature of feathered creatures.
In any event, Yon Duck, will, for hours sometimes, remain there. Oftentimes with one leg tucked up under her, she sits, sphinx-like, watching the passers-by.
In the last week, things have become somewhat more serious. Seems a good local soul felt there was imminent danger in her resting place. Threats from the trenchers and earth-movers which were employed in the beautification of our Broadwalk. So, the Fish, Game and Wildlife folks were called to rescue her.
Our friend TV called us to let us know. We anxiously walked out onto the catwalk corridor of our building . From the fifth floor, we watched, giggling, as three of these well-intentioned souls attempted to take Yon Duck into protective custody.
As soon as they got within 3 or 4 paces of her, she raised her magnificent wings, and skip-flew ten or fifteen yards away from them. This went on for a good half hour. At the end of that session, the score was Yon Duck 1 – Visitors ZERO.
They must have given up and left. Yon Duck remained.
And, she, thankfully, still remains. Although, just the other morning in the early dawn light, while sitting at my computer, I glanced out to the south-west, and, flying low, just over the tree-tops, was Yon Duck. She beat a path just beyond my window, headed quite obviously back to her post of choice – apparently for her morning shower.
On a Monday night, three days following Thanksgiving, it was a particularly windy and blustery. Although the skies were clear, the winds were wild – blasting in from the east off the Atlantic.
I went outside to check.
She was there – I wasn’t quite sure at first….I saw only a dark bump on the concrete apron of the shower post. So, I got our binoculars and double-checked. Yes – that was definitely her.
Yon Duck, drawn in tight, motionless against the relentless assault of the wind.
She was waiting – heaven knows for what, but – she seemed to be waiting.
It was worrisome to see – I knew we would all like to have given her shelter.
And, yet – I realized she must be there, because that’s where she wanted to be.
But she had no protection. The winds chuffed in off the whitecaps, a direct frontal blitz, which whipped the sand up and around her.
But there she remained. Like a sailor of old – braced up against the mast, fearlessly facing a ragged sea. Defiant, it would seem. And, yet – what could I do? If I had approached her, she would have flitted away. And, even if I could have gotten close enough to throw a blanket about her, what then?
No….that couldn’t ever work. It was best to leave her alone. She always returned there, day after day.
Arriving home the other night she was in the middle of the road outside the garage entry. And, Elmer was out there also. Glass of beer in hand.
‘Hey Elmer! You having a beer with Yon Duck?’
He replied, ‘We’re not THAT friendly yet….but I’m workin on her.’
‘Good luck’, I replied. ‘Just don’t get her drunk – unfair advantage and all that, what?’
A few days later TV dropped by and in bringing us up to date on the goings-on in and around our building, he recounted how, a day or so ago, he had seen Elmer standing out on the Broadwalk.
He strolled up to him, said, 'Hey - howzit goin' Elmer?'
Elmer, it seems was, as he is from time to time, standoffish. He sorta grunted.
TV, never one to be discouraged by rejection, said again, 'Hey Elmer - whussup? How's the duck? You seen her?'
Elmer, in a rather cranky tone, replied, 'Duck had a run in with a dog - with a big dog.'
TV asked, 'Is she okay? What happened?'
Elmer replied, 'Duck's gone....she's gone, man.'
TV: 'But, where'd she go? Do you think she’s alright?'
Elmer: 'Dint you hear me, man? Duck had a run-in with a big dog - duck lost....duck's gone, man. She's just gone!'
TV recognised he would get no further information. When Elmer is disposed that way, he's not nice to be around.
I listened to this distressing update. I had been hoping, really, that Yon Duck had maybe just taken a break from the rigors of construction turmoil, all the dust and noise and such. I hoped, as did we all, that given a few days, Yon Duck would again return to this, her new roost.
The news, saddened me deeply. I imagined all sorts of scenarios - big aggressive dog bearing down on a quiet, gentle unsuspecting Yon Duck......a furious attempt at flight - a frenzied beating of wings, and the BigDog all the while wheeling about in the soft sand, pouncing, snapping - grabbing, finally, Yon Duck. I couldn't bear to think more about it.......
During the 30 mile drive to work the next morning I felt very unsettled and rather disheartened by this unexpected development. Most of the building’s residents had come to adopt her, spiritually if not physically. It was depressing to think that nasty danger had befallen her.
When I arrived at the office I turned into the empty parking lot and slowly cruised to the far end of the lot, close to the building entry. At 6:30 in the morning mine was usually the only car in the lot.
Getting out of the car ny attention was distracted by a dark shape just ahead and to my left. Just at the end of a row of bushes. In attempting to make out what appeared as a familiar sort of shape, I took a step in that direction. With a sudden flurry of beating wings the shape took flight – for a few yards. As it settled, turning back towards me, it tucked one leg up under her belly, and gazed at me, sphinx-like.
Damn if it wasn’t my best hope come true – it was surely, Yon Duck.
Good for her.
And good, for all of us.
Sadly she hasn’t again returned to the beach – leastwise not our beach. On the other hand, I now regularly see her in the early morning light when I get to work. The confirmation of life and determination gives me strength and inspiration each time.
Thank you Yon Duck – Happy Trails to you and yours.
©2008 michael moore
Yon Duck
The duck, one day, appeared. Perched on the concrete apron under the beach showers, she sat, disdainfully observing the passers-by. When anyone approached, she rose to her full height, wings outstretched, and fluttered a few yards away from the intruder. As most who spend any time in south Florida in the winter know, these Muscovy ducks are seen most everywhere. Black-feathered with crimson markings about their beak, they are an odd looking species.
In the days that followed, she became a curiosity and neighbours in our building took up regular surveillance. I christened her Yon Duck.
Meanwhile, progress encroached on Yon Duck’s adopted habitat. Hollywood Beach was in the throes of a major renovation of the broad pedestrian walkway that borders the beach, known as the Broadwalk. Light standards and pavement were uprooted and removed to make way for a new wall and walking path and a ribbon of palms. Through it all, Yon Duck remained, and continued her dominion over any and all that approached.
From time to time, she would slowly waddle across the Broadwalk to take shelter under Donny’s truck. Sometimes, when I left at 6:30 in the morning, I could see her there…snuggled up tight, wings tucked in. At other times we watched her cross the Broadwalk to pay a visit to Booby.
Booby is the most gorgeous Siamese cat – honey-colored with black flashes at her tail tip. Until Yon Duck arrived, Booby imperiously ruled this section of the Broadwalk. Her master, Elmer, would often sit with her on the seawall that abounded the edge of their property and most who walked by would comment on her beauty.
Now, I haven’t myself, seen this – but I’m told reliably as fact, that once in a while, Yon Duck makes this short journey down the sidewalk to the entrance to Boobys garden (a most delightful cultivation of palms, rich flora and potted plants which Elmer has constructed there), and, with a quick backwards glance, enter that enchanted space through the portico.
But, thus far, none of us has been privy to their conversation. Fortunately, and encouragingly, their discussions have been conducted in quietude and peacefully. There has been, thus far, no furious flapping of wings, nor enraged yowls from Booby.
Determined to respect their privacy, we, who stand around and watch, will usually drift away. For we don’t ever know how long these meetings might last. Thus, none of us have ever actually seen Yon Duck emerge from the Enchanted Garden.
But – she does….and all of a sudden, there she is again. Poised beneath the showerhead.
Some of us have discovered that she likes to drink from freshly pooled water which collects on the shower apron. So, we will tentatively approach her, in order to activate the faucet.
She, of course, moves away. None of us get particularly close. Except, perhaps, Carroll. But then, she is possessed of a mystical magical ability to commune with all nature of feathered creatures.
In any event, Yon Duck, will, for hours sometimes, remain there. Oftentimes with one leg tucked up under her, she sits, sphinx-like, watching the passers-by.
In the last week, things have become somewhat more serious. Seems a good local soul felt there was imminent danger in her resting place. Threats from the trenchers and earth-movers which were employed in the beautification of our Broadwalk. So, the Fish, Game and Wildlife folks were called to rescue her.
Our friend TV called us to let us know. We anxiously walked out onto the catwalk corridor of our building . From the fifth floor, we watched, giggling, as three of these well-intentioned souls attempted to take Yon Duck into protective custody.
As soon as they got within 3 or 4 paces of her, she raised her magnificent wings, and skip-flew ten or fifteen yards away from them. This went on for a good half hour. At the end of that session, the score was Yon Duck 1 – Visitors ZERO.
They must have given up and left. Yon Duck remained.
And, she, thankfully, still remains. Although, just the other morning in the early dawn light, while sitting at my computer, I glanced out to the south-west, and, flying low, just over the tree-tops, was Yon Duck. She beat a path just beyond my window, headed quite obviously back to her post of choice – apparently for her morning shower.
On a Monday night, three days following Thanksgiving, it was a particularly windy and blustery. Although the skies were clear, the winds were wild – blasting in from the east off the Atlantic.
I went outside to check.
She was there – I wasn’t quite sure at first….I saw only a dark bump on the concrete apron of the shower post. So, I got our binoculars and double-checked. Yes – that was definitely her.
Yon Duck, drawn in tight, motionless against the relentless assault of the wind.
She was waiting – heaven knows for what, but – she seemed to be waiting.
It was worrisome to see – I knew we would all like to have given her shelter.
And, yet – I realized she must be there, because that’s where she wanted to be.
But she had no protection. The winds chuffed in off the whitecaps, a direct frontal blitz, which whipped the sand up and around her.
But there she remained. Like a sailor of old – braced up against the mast, fearlessly facing a ragged sea. Defiant, it would seem. And, yet – what could I do? If I had approached her, she would have flitted away. And, even if I could have gotten close enough to throw a blanket about her, what then?
No….that couldn’t ever work. It was best to leave her alone. She always returned there, day after day.
Arriving home the other night she was in the middle of the road outside the garage entry. And, Elmer was out there also. Glass of beer in hand.
‘Hey Elmer! You having a beer with Yon Duck?’
He replied, ‘We’re not THAT friendly yet….but I’m workin on her.’
‘Good luck’, I replied. ‘Just don’t get her drunk – unfair advantage and all that, what?’
A few days later TV dropped by and in bringing us up to date on the goings-on in and around our building, he recounted how, a day or so ago, he had seen Elmer standing out on the Broadwalk.
He strolled up to him, said, 'Hey - howzit goin' Elmer?'
Elmer, it seems was, as he is from time to time, standoffish. He sorta grunted.
TV, never one to be discouraged by rejection, said again, 'Hey Elmer - whussup? How's the duck? You seen her?'
Elmer, in a rather cranky tone, replied, 'Duck had a run in with a dog - with a big dog.'
TV asked, 'Is she okay? What happened?'
Elmer replied, 'Duck's gone....she's gone, man.'
TV: 'But, where'd she go? Do you think she’s alright?'
Elmer: 'Dint you hear me, man? Duck had a run-in with a big dog - duck lost....duck's gone, man. She's just gone!'
TV recognised he would get no further information. When Elmer is disposed that way, he's not nice to be around.
I listened to this distressing update. I had been hoping, really, that Yon Duck had maybe just taken a break from the rigors of construction turmoil, all the dust and noise and such. I hoped, as did we all, that given a few days, Yon Duck would again return to this, her new roost.
The news, saddened me deeply. I imagined all sorts of scenarios - big aggressive dog bearing down on a quiet, gentle unsuspecting Yon Duck......a furious attempt at flight - a frenzied beating of wings, and the BigDog all the while wheeling about in the soft sand, pouncing, snapping - grabbing, finally, Yon Duck. I couldn't bear to think more about it.......
During the 30 mile drive to work the next morning I felt very unsettled and rather disheartened by this unexpected development. Most of the building’s residents had come to adopt her, spiritually if not physically. It was depressing to think that nasty danger had befallen her.
When I arrived at the office I turned into the empty parking lot and slowly cruised to the far end of the lot, close to the building entry. At 6:30 in the morning mine was usually the only car in the lot.
Getting out of the car ny attention was distracted by a dark shape just ahead and to my left. Just at the end of a row of bushes. In attempting to make out what appeared as a familiar sort of shape, I took a step in that direction. With a sudden flurry of beating wings the shape took flight – for a few yards. As it settled, turning back towards me, it tucked one leg up under her belly, and gazed at me, sphinx-like.
Damn if it wasn’t my best hope come true – it was surely, Yon Duck.
Good for her.
And good, for all of us.
Sadly she hasn’t again returned to the beach – leastwise not our beach. On the other hand, I now regularly see her in the early morning light when I get to work. The confirmation of life and determination gives me strength and inspiration each time.
Thank you Yon Duck – Happy Trails to you and yours.
©2008 michael moore