Our story begins with two ducks. One waddles with her brown feathers stiff against her side, but her tail shakes high in delight. The other keeps his shiny green neck stretched to its full extent, watching for any who may walk too close. The two live in a flock full of brown and white and black feathered ducks, all living in a pond located in the ideal place: a college campus.
These ducks have an indifference to all students and alumni who pass them—unless they bear rice or oats. (Heaven forbid someone feed them bread and sabotage their daily nutrition log.)
This pond creates a sense of community and privacy for the flock. It rests at the foot of one of the largest staircases (around 60 steps) that ascends to the campus buildings. Boardwalks surround the body of water, and grass and trees surround the boardwalks. It’s a well-loved home and the setting is so ideal that a new species of ducks moved in to the pond just last year (the Mallards wish to express another friendly greeting to the Swedish Blue ducks; they are honored you chose to live at their pond).
Despite the delicacy of the pond, our aforementioned ducks have led a life different from their counterparts. I hate to impose any names upon these two, as I’ve yet acted brave enough to ask what they go by, but for the sake of the story, we shall call our female duck Donna and our male duck Dapper.
The endless source of food was alright. Donna and Dapper couldn’t complain about having their needs met by the bright-eyed humans. The staring could get old, but they knew some of the sorrow-gazing people needed to use their home as a place of peace. The cuddling couples—well, they were just like Donna and Dapper. Except for one thing: they looked content at the pond.
Donna and Dapper? They needed something more.
Sure, the squealing babies and sprinting toddlers provided sparks of excitement. But with one jump into the air and an extension of their wings, Donna and Dapper could easily win the game of chase. The thrill disappeared in moments.
I, myself, understood this feeling. Some days, the walk to school felt repetitive and dreary. The air would not warm. The grass would not grow green again. It was a cold winter that refused to end. I think we all needed something new. Donna and Dapper must have been the first to take action.
I was crossing the road to the pond when I saw them for the first time. My steps slowed as I watched what seemed like a new phenomenon in nature. Two ducks walking between two white lines designating the crosswalk. Donna led the way as Dapper followed close behind.
They looked confident with their chests and tails raised high. I had no doubt they were fully aware of the pedestrian rules that we humans follow. How had they figured them out? Why had they followed them? More so, where were they going?
Minutes were fleeing and soon I would need to be seated in a metal chair in class. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I took a video. I figured I should document the moment, as I may never see something like that again.
That’s what I thought.
Days passed. I walked my regular path back home. It weaved me through orange-bricked campus buildings. As I neared the edge of the buildings, I saw two familiar beaks: Donna and Dapper. Laughing, I smiled at them and tried not to offend. They had fond a nice puddle to splash around in. It would have been rude to interrupt and ask what had brought them up to campus, so I moved on.
Weeks passed. I walked on the same old gray sidewalk that passed by old houses in need of repair. Different blocks of the sidewalk stuck up and out. There were plenty of cracks to trip on. I had made it to a traffic light and when the walking-man light turned on, I moved forward.
Unlike other intersections, this one crossed through a bus stop. Thus, people could cross to the middle of the road, wait on the platform, and then cross the rest of the road. As always, there were crosswalk lines that led to the middle and end of the intersection.
On this day, I crossed pass the middle section when I saw them. Donna led the way again. I suspect she had the greatest desire for travel. It stunned me to witness the phenomenon a second time: both of them knew to stay in the crosswalk! Even with the middle platform!
Who were these ducks?
I’d soon come to see this couple many places. At houses a few blocks down from the pond. At different spots on campus. Sometimes back on the boardwalk, sunbathing and gearing up for their next adventure. Wherever they went, they went together. They stayed close, but every so often I saw them occupied by their own individual tasks: searching for worms or getting lost in thought.
Truth told, I’ve yet to see a better couple on campus.
Donna and Dapper are doing something right.
They enjoy time with their flock and rest at home when needed, but they aren’t scared to see the world. When they branch out, their respectful of the community and follow the rules, but they never lose their sense of adventure. They’re together, but they’re still their own ducks.
I wish you could all meet them. I don’t know how to describe these two in a better way, for these words fail to capture their essence. There’s something special there—with those two. Ducks or not, they’re doing something right. Something good. That’s why I declare Donna and Dapper as the ultimate campus couple.
Two ducks, one everlasting love.
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