The Quacking Lagoon

Trumpeter swans are spectacular birds.  The world's largest waterfowl, they are imposing, stately, and elegant.  I've watched them in the wild and in several zoos, gliding serenely across the water or grazing on the shoreline.  The first pair I ever saw was presiding over a motley crew of other ducks, like a king and queen surrounded by jostling courtiers.  The other birds were all much smaller, of course, but what they lacked in size they made up for in color.  And personality.  I could have spent an hour watching the mixed-species flock of ducks, geese, and swans swirl around each other.

It used to be one of the most common sights at many zoos.  Now, duck ponds are far rarer.

I'm not really sure why.  I suppose that back in the early days of zoo design, duck ponds just made lots of sense.  They were cheap and easy to build, or, more likely, to just throw fencing around an existing pond.  Ducks and geese are cheap to feed and most species are easy to breed (fueled by our thousands of years' worth of knowledge having domestic waterfowl).  It's easy to keep many different species together.  They are colorful and active.  Many species are very cold hardy, especially compared to, say, parrots.  For a new zoo that was building itself up from the ground up, having a duck pond probably just seemed simple.

Then, the face of the modern zoo began to change.  There was a demand for bigger and better habitats for animals, especially large mammals, and as most urban zoos are tightly locked in by their surrounding neighborhoods, that space had to come from within.  Waterfowl ponds - pretty but perhaps not as popular as bears and elephants - were sacrificed to give more space to mammals.  And it wasn't all paradise, either - waterfowl in open-topped ponds were vulnerable to predators, such as owls and minks.  No matter how many signs you put up, visitors still insist on feeding them bread and other junk food.  Also, building an ideal waterfowl habitat inevitably attracts... waterfowl.  Nuisance Canada geese and armadas of mallards descend, dominating and harassing and out-eating the zoo birds... sometimes even breeding with them.

The best solution is to cover these ponds with netting, keeping zoo birds in, predators and freeloaders out, but considering the size of the pond, that can be an enormous expense.  Who needs the hassle?  They're just ducks, right?  Who comes to the zoo to see ducks?

Well, I mean, I do.  Besides, ducks (and geese and swans) are awesome.  They are, for starters, quite beautiful.  They are almost very active; a troop of monkeys has nothing on the drama that a flock of ducks can start up with each other.  Many species are endangered and could benefit from more zoos working with them.  Captive-breeding has played a tremendous role in saving some species, such as the nene, from extinction.

The face of zoos are always changing, and exhibits seem to come and go like fashion fads.  Still, I wouldn't mind if duck ponds made a comeback.  In a world full of action and loud flashy experiences and everything trying to be bigger and better than it was last year, there are few pleasures as simply and enjoyable as just sitting on a bench and watching ducks.