When I woke up yesterday morning, I never would have imagined that I would be holding five newborn ducklings in my hands. I was in a deep sleep when my husband practically shook me out of bed. “Come, come! You gotta see this!” He knows my affection for animals and we’ve all fallen in love with the bird nests and babies we’ve had in our yard this spring. Two baby Killdeer birds (now teenagers) are still in our backyard waiting to take their first flights.

But as I flew out of bed and ran to the window where my husband impatiently waited, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Waddling through our yard I see a mommy duck and five babies all in a row. Where did they come from? How did they get in our yard? A little investigation and we found the mommy’s nest of feathers with one un-hatched egg. Just a little problem: The nest is located by a window well with grates small enough to make sure a three-year old’s leg can’t fall in, but not small enough to keep a baby duck from slipping down.

A few hours later I hear the mommy duck on our roof top with a view of the whole yard in front of her and she is calling. Crying for her babies. Where are they? Why is she on the roof? And then I make the connection between the nest and the window well. Surly the babies didn’t fall down. I’m scared as I lean over to see if they are down there. And then I see five baby ducklings huddled in a group sleeping soundly. Yes, each one had dropped down.

I panic. And yet I know instantly what to do. “Mommy duck!” I call out. “I know where they are! Wait!” I run inside. I grab my biggest pot with lid. I then run to my laundry room where we keep sterile rubber gloves that my husband uses to clean his bike to avoid getting grease on his hands. I run downstairs to the farthest corner of our basement to the said window. I put the gloves on. I know you’re not supposed to get human smells on the ducks or else their mom might abandon them.

I open the window and the cute little guys are sleeping so soundly they don’t even realize the sound. I jump into the well bare feet. Now they wake and look around. I take the first one, acting quickly and put it inside the pot. The others scramble. They are scared, but I talk to them. I grab each one as careful as possible and I find it’s fairly easy to catch a baby duckling. I get all five into the pot and put the lid on. Up the stairs I fly and I can hear them scurrying in the pot. Their cute little webbed feet. Just then my husband gets home from work wondering why I am running frantic through the house with a pot.

I run outside and open the lid. One jumps out and over the edge of the pot into the grass. He’s the athletic one, I think to myself. Then I gingerly tilt the pot and one by one they scatter out a bit dazed, but feeling like a lucky little duck.

The mommy bird is no where to be found. I must have scared her. The babies now wander aimlessly around the yard. I put a cover on the window well and a blanket across the bottom of our gate to make sure they don’t get out. Still no mommy. I worry. I get on the internet and find out what to do in case the mommy doesn’t come back, something this website on ducks says can happen if the mommy gets scared off. I’m telling my husband that we need to get a hot water bottle and wrap it. We’re making plans.

Then my husband calls out: “The mommy bird is here!” We run to the window to see what happens. Oh I hope she doesn’t smell me on the babies. The mom looks around and spots the babies. The babies spot her. They both pick up speed and practically run into each other’s arms. It was a joyous reunion!

That evening just at dusk – the time when the stars begin to come into – I went to water my small vegetable garden. I wondered where the ducks were hoping they were nestled somewhere safe. Then I noticed something in the grass just feet from my cucumber plant. I took a step forward and the mommy duck moved her head toward me. I knelt down near her and we just stared at each other; her babies tucked under her warm body. We both sat in silence. She didn’t try to walk away. She wasn’t scared of me. We were both comfortable sitting there, honoring motherhood, in the silent on-coming night.