Nature – yellow in beak and claw
You see life on our golf course, but not always the most uplifting of scenarios.
The swan is still on her nest, protected by the small wire fence erected by the greenkeepers when she first started sitting some weeks ago.
On another pond, the mother moor-hen has managed to raise a brood of six chicks, little black furry bundles skittering about everywhere on tiny spindly legs. I tried to snatch a photo with my phone, but she hurried them all into the pond at amazing speed as I surreptitiously approached, and all of them disappeared.
Further round, on the pond by the seventeenth green, is a duck with three or four fluffy yellow ducklings. At least, there were three or four ducklings. Just as I was about to putt on the seventeenth, there was the most raucous cacophony. I missed the putt (but can’t blame the noise. I just missed it), and turned to see a large black crow swoop down on the ducklings as mother tried to shoo her brood into the pond.
In a micro moment the crow had grabbed a duckling in its large claws, made off with it, and could soon be seen pecking at it. The mother duck was distraught, and to be honest, all those of us who witnessed it were quite upset, too.
But there’s no room for maudlin sentimentality in nature. In another couple of moments, all was quiet again. The mother duck and her ducklings were serenely enjoying the pond, the crow finished its meal and flew away, and only us humans were left feeling somewhat bereft.
There’s a sermon in that somewhere, if only I could find it!