Spring: Lust Is In The Air

At last it's here!

It's been a long, cold Winter but finally the temperature is starting to creep up, blossom is budding on the trees, the first of the daffodils are poking out their sunny bonnets ... and the animal kingdom is horny as hell.

One of the things I enjoy most about walking to work is being able to observe the wildlife; however, it is rather difficult not to feel somewhat aggrieved when you're young, single and sex-free (I haven't decided yet whether this is voluntary/involuntary) and have to watch as every other living creature gets plenty of sweet lovin'. This morning I grimly kept my eyes averted as squirrels madly chased each other round trees, dogs keenly sniffed each other's bums and ducks wandered around in happy, monogamous couples.

Well most of them were anyway.

I'm rather fond of ducks. Actually I'm so fond of them that I will occasionally get up 10 minutes earlier than usual just so that I can stop and feed them. I love the whole dopey-inquisitive look thing they have going on and the way it sometimes sounds like they're laughing hysterically at something.

But I'm sorry to say, dear reader, that the harsh reality about ducks (well, male ducks to be accurate) is that come the mating season they can turn into single-mindedly depraved gang-bangers.

I don't know whether you have ever had the dubious opportunity to observe the mating ritual of ducks, but it's pretty hardcore. I quote:

"involves the drake grabbing the hen by the neck, leaving hens with feathers pulled out and sores on the necks"

Yeah, ouch! But even worse is when there is a large number of drakes and only one hen. I'm sure you get the picture.

Well that's what I witnessed this morning, and frankly I was traumatised ... although not, I suspect, as traumatised as the poor little lady duck was. She was squawking pitifully, desperately trying to get away but had 5 males swarming around her, all determined to get a piece of the action. They were pecking at her and generally roughing her up, I swear at one point she looked right at me with something that looked a lot like panic in her beady little eyes. It seemed almost a cry for help, and us girls have to stick together.

So I decided to rescue her. Much to the bewildered amusement of the other people in the park I charged towards the group of feathered thugs, cursing and shooing them away. They were pretty persistent, obviously the testosterone had kicked in with a vengeance, but I was on a mission of mercy and nothing was going to stop me. Eventually they gave up and wandered off leaving me to share one of my sandwich's with the victim (being British I would of course normally make a nice cup of tea, the answer to every upsetting incident known to man ... but in this case I was fairly certain a sandwich would be better appreciated). It made me feel good, like I'd done something worthwhile. I knew it was probably only delaying the inevitable but at least I'd brought her a little time and with any luck she'd meet the drake of her dreams and live happily ever after.

So off I rushed to work, now running 10 minutes late, hoping that my boss either wouldn't be there yet or that he just wouldn't ask me for a reason since I was fairly sure he would never believe me if I said I was late because I had to save a duck from being brutally molested.

Strange but true.