Blane Klemek: Hatching a little mallard duckling on the farm
The mallard hen that I nearly stepped on in the pasture was one of my earliest boyhood memories. The bird erupted from a clump of dead and dry springtime grass; her flapping wings beating furiously and giving me such a start that I nearly turned and ran in the opposite direction. She quacked loudly and continued to do so as she flew to a nearby wetland and landed with a “plop”.
Are you a newspaper subscriber but you don't have a Digital Access account yet? https://secure.forumcomm.com/?publisher_ID=40&event=subscriber/lookup.
You will need your subscription account number and phone number. Not sure if you have an account? Email us at email@example.com and we can help you.