mns  2006-06-07 07:18   

It’s nearly a year since I moved to Islington and one of the biggest surprises (and believe me there have been a few) is the wildlife. In previous blogs I’ve talked about the seagulls, the foxes and the cats. This time I am going to write about the ducks.

May brought with it some surprises, most notably the arrival of the aforementioned ducks in the garden below. Initially just two who frolicked on the pond and did what ducks do. That done, the male retired to the roof opposite where he was, in due course, joined by a group of other males. And the female disappeared.
Working on the basis that she had to have her nest near the pond in order to get her ducklings safely to the water, I could only assume that the nest was hidden in the bushes three floor below where I am living.
There are foxes in the garden too, and I had no idea how she managed to keep herself safe, but one morning she and one duckling appeared in the pond.
Meanwhile the males sat on the roof opposite (see my photos) and observed the world.
Later that day both the female and the duckling disappeared, and in due course the female joined the gang on the parapet opposite the flat.

Now for the true story which I only heard yesterday morning from Kent who manages the property, and whose work has an unusual diversity to it.
Every year the ducks arrive and, no, they don’t nest in the garden. They nest on the roof opposite, behind the parapet. So when I was watching the five males lolling in the sun, they, in fact, were guarding the nest that was hidden behind them.

Last year eighteen ducklings hatched on the roof. Remember, this is three storeys up, and it’s a long drop down. Mother duck tried to push them down the drain pipe to the garden below. Some went that way, others jumped off the edge and floated down. Kent went up and rescued the rest, managing to get all eighteen into the pond in the garden.
Unfortunately, having flown the nest, these eighteen had no idea how to behave. And the mother had no control over them. The whole lot got out of the water, ran riot and disappeared out the gates to the side.
That was last year.
This year just one duckling made it down safely – this was the one I saw that morning. However, it had leaped over the side of the parapet and landed on a balcony below, where Kent had had to rescue it, warding off its irate mother who flapped and hissed at him as she tried to protect her young.
Once again, Kent put the duckling in the pond, and it was there I saw it floating happily in the sun.
Once again the mother’s parenting skills fell short, and even though she only had one duckling to watch over, it was seen later that day running out the side gate on to Gaskin Street with its mother chasing it.
Kent saw it later floating in a bowl of water held by someone begging on the street. He thought of a further rescue attempt but reasoned that it would simply run away again from the pond and at least it was being cared for.
In the last week all the ducks have flown away to return next Spring.

Meanwhile at least one of the foxes is living in the garages under the apartments, sleeping on the soft top roof of a convertible. Protected by law and by the RSPCA the fox has a comfortable bed.