Issue January 1- 14
Watching Nature spin her mysteries.

It is an idyllic setting. Yarra Valley, Australia. The rest of the group is inside, buying wine, and chutneys in fancy bottles. ‘Inside’ is a log cabin, quaint and warmly lit. Welcoming. But I find the outside better.

The grassy slope slides into a tiny, mirror-like pond. The sky is turning a dark blue as dusk prepares to descend.

At the far end of the pond, a mother duck is holding swimming lessons for her two tiny ducklings. It is serious business. She paddles along, without effort, slowly swanning her way in a large arc. The ducklings paddle furiously behind, trying to keep up with each other and with her. She stops, they stop. She starts, they start. She turns and heads back. They follow and move to the other side of the pond. And they are still, watching something.

AT the other end of the pond is another Mama. And this one is on to std II lessons. She swoops into the water, and disappears. The water rings into a series of concentric ripples around her; and at the centre is one very puzzled baby duck.

After a very long moment, when even I begin to worry about Mama Duck’s need for oxygen, she surfaces. Her baby sights her, and zooms up to her with the speed of a rocket. A moment of closeness follows as feathers touch and Mama lets her duck-ling nestle up. Then she moves away and is gone again. Repeat session. Again, she emerges, and the little rocket zooms in.

Is she teaching him that the water is safe to go under, or is she fishing for their dinner? It is too dark to see. But Mama Duck number one can see in this light, and thinks the time is right for her advanced course. So, start of lesson number two on the eastern side of the pond. Soon, there are two rockets zooming in to Mama, as she dives and emerges, dives and emerges.

Nature has its programmes pre-set, and I am sure it won’t be long before the three little ducklings are doing their own bit of diving. And enjoying it too.

Two baby elephants brighten my morning as I drive to work. Sometimes, they are both there, sometimes they are not, but more often than not, one is being scrubbed by its keeper who sits atop it as it lies on its side, and scrubs at it with a brush, before washing it down with buckets of water. Hard work. The ‘mahout’ must love his ward.

Then, two days in a row, one elephant lies inert. He must be ill, I think, and my heart sinks. I call Sangeeta, my vet friend, for help, she sets the ball rolling and soon, Karuna, the animal welfare organisation, sends its large ambulance speeding to the site.

The animal is missing. It has gone for a walk. It is not sick, but has a hurt foot, or leg. No one is sure.

I wait for the next day, hoping to catch sight of it and the ‘mahout’. I find both. After I have convinced him that I will not take away his beast, the man admits that it is the other elephant which has a hurt foot and has been sent for a wedding.

I wince at the thought of the pain the foot must have suffered through walking; we track down the owner, and convince him to seek help for his animal.

I wonder if I have forced the animal into the long march by interfering, but hope I have done right. If I have, I am sure the two trumpeters will be back, and I will catch a glimpse of them as they enjoy their daily bath.

GOT COMMENTS OR QUESTIONS? E-MAIL US AT femina@timesgroup.com WITH ‘me to you — Ducks And Elephants’ IN THE SUBJECT LINE.