Duck. Duck. Gone?

I was gonna be a duck dad. The one silver lining of this winter’s massive ice and heavy-snow storm and all the downed branches was, quite by accident, a little duck made a nest in my giant pile of evergreen limbs and I was all excited to see ducklings wandering around my yard.

Now? That might never happen.

One day, I’m working outside looking at the momma duck sitting patiently on her nest and then, the next day …poof! Gone. No momma duck. No eggs. No ducklings. Just some random scattered feathers.

I hope it means when ducklings hatch, they immediately start walking and momma duck and baby ducks all waddle off to find water. I don’t have water in my yard. My yard is no place to raise a duckling (I’ve always said that).

But it could mean a predator found this nest. Gulp! The Internet machine says raccoons or skunks are known to find a nest and eat the eggs, the egg occupants, and the shells.

Oh, whoa is me. I mean. Whoa are those ducklings. If they have fallen victim to a predator, I blame myself. I could’ve done something. Erected a fence? Slept outside near their nest? Moved the nest inside my garage (even if it meant the momma duck would abandon the nest . . . I happened to know of a duck egg incubator).

Now? I’ll forever wonder what became of my would-be duckling friends.

I took such great care not to disturb the nest. I mowed wide around the nest. When the momma duck was spooked and scared away, I spoke kindly and she returned again and again. I had plans for a little post-duck-birthday party.

Nature is cruel. I mean, if they indeed are dead. Otherwise, I hope they’ll fly back and visit me someday.