Little baby ducks fell from the sky!
Or so it seemed...
Our second day of camping at Lake of the Woods, these little fuzzy brown ducks dropped to the ground from way up high in a pine tree at our site. One of them even fell on my shoulder. Which, I'm sorry to say, was gross. Especially if, like me, your first thought would be that the fuzzy creature was a rat.
So, seven little wood ducks, stunned from their fifty-foot drops, flopped around at the base of a giant pine tree as four kids and a mom (not me) doted over them. (I was still thinking it could've been a rat.) My friend Kerry and the kids then gently picked up the baby ducks and ran the fifty yards down to the lake to put them with a duck they believed was their mother. (I think she was.)
After they left, a final duck fell from the tree. Not on me. In a scientific experiment, I watched it.
And I'm happy to report, that little fuzzball made it's way in a diagonal beeline - confidently skirting tied-up dogs, fallen logs, and picnic bench legs - to reunite with its mama and siblings!
We had no idea these were wood ducks at the time, but had to do some research after we got home. Dane's buddy Logan made my day when he said with a huge smile, "Now I know what I'm writing about my summer on the first day back to school!"
And here's the other stuff he might also want to add...
Logan and Dane with their moss-staches.
In Kerry's big ole tent.
Fending off mosquitoes in a most fashionable way.
My dandy boy. ("Mom, can I go to water's edge?")
S'mores, of c'ores.
Cork guns and a song: sha-pa-pa-pa pa-pa! Pop!
Sharly and Cherry Pie: the baby ducks were cute,
but these are the BEST fuzzy camping pals.
