Spring, for the avid season watcher, contains a variety of deadlines and timetables. Some are obvious, and others are subtle. I often study the span of time in which tree nesting ducks return to open water, then watch as they search for, select, and compete for duck boxes and other nest cavities. No matter how many boxes I put up on trees or posts, the frantic antics of the ducks always inspire me to put up more boxes. This spring, until recently, I had not felt the call to action.

February 28th, I was invited to a lakeshore property just down the road to watch the final hockey game between the Canadians and the Americans. (I'm skirting around the actual title of the sporting event to avoid litigation - you can never be too careful!) The game was gripping but as the day was bright and sunny, we migrated out to the deck of the lakeshore property between hockey periods. From our vantage point on the south side of Horse Lake, we watched the vast spreading plain of the frozen lake, and a handful of die-hard ice fishermen huddled offshore. I also sighted my first robin of the year as it hopped about on the lawn.

While I looked up and down the shoreline at the properties to either side of the hosts' house, my mind turned to waterfront housing. The southward facing properties were ideally suited for setting up duck boxes. What if I could convince every lot owner to put up just one duck box!

I don't know if people actually want to attract more wildlife to their houses, so I try to be cautious with my suggestions, but I decided to broach the subject of erecting duck boxes with my hockey game hosts. They seemed interested. They thought their neighbours might also be interested, but weren't sure.

I quickly launched into my spiel about how clean, different, and rewarding it can be to host a duck box, and help a mother duck raise a brood. And, just in case any of my readers live near lakefront property - I will give you the same speech right now. It goes something like this:

Tree nesting ducks, unlike many other birds that use nest boxes, do not feed their young in the nest box. This means there is no mess of any kind. A duck box is simply a place for the female duck to incubate the eggs. The timetable goes like this: After mating out on the lake, the male departs so he can spend his time loafing around on a lake further up north. The male leaves the female to all the nest chores.

The female lays one egg a day until she has a full clutch - usually 6 eggs or more. The female incubates the eggs for 6 hours at a time, then leaves for a half-hour break for stretching and eating. This routine goes on for at least 24 days. After the eggs hatch, all the ducklings are dry and fluffy in about 24-hours, so the female encourages the ducklings to jump out of the nest box.

One by one the fluff balls climb to the opening and drop to the ground. The female gathers them in a bunch at the lakeshore and they all paddle off to live and grow to full size on the lake. The only sign that the nest box was ever used might be a little down left clinging to the nest box entrance.

If this story has inspired you to share your property with tree nesting ducks, duck box plans are easy to find on the web. But be advised - the deadline for placing duck boxes is fast approaching. I once put up a duck box just after the beginning of May. A female Hooded Merganser discovered the potential nesting spot but was out of luck because, by then, all the male Mergansers had departed for the north.