Lone Point

Ordinarily this would be an idyllic setting for a rendezvous. Was this female mallard stood-up by her prospective date? Or is she waiting like a traditional sea captain’s wife, hopeful for her mate to return home from his long voyage? Or does she already suspect the worst and her low, distinctive quacking will continue to be unanswered, except by the empty echoes of her voice from across the bay…?

Words and images by Michael J. Hall