Pintail duck in Scarborough

[Shortsighted]

 Of late, I’ve seen more reports than usual of pintail ducks. Reports began coming in the fall, although those early sightings were not of males. Another male strike?  Now and then there were reports of dual female ducks in collusion, with secret agendas. Much less often a single male pintail gets reported as mingling amongst a group of more common species.  I rarely get to see a photo of a male, whether mingling or otherwise. One pintail that I did see at Reesor pond in Markham was far from shore, yet so exquisite in its features as to make identification straightforward.  Its elegant shape made it a memorable sight even when viewed from a considerable distance.  I even spotted a single male pintail at Reesor pond (lower) in Scarborough, slumming it. It was only present for less than a day because when I later returned it was nowhere to be found.  This pond has been a disappointment all year for several reasons.

 
My closest encounter with a male pintail occurred when I was already down and dirty with my camera trained on a few gadwall at close range and in bright hazy sunlight.  Suddenly a pintail landed with a splash right in front of me.  It appeared like an actor might, gliding onto the stage with aplomb. I’m glad that I was belly-down (not standing) because that male pintail might not have obliged to be so cooperative while I photographed it.

This pintail (pictured below) at Bluffers Park did the same thing.  It’s the second time a pintail has made a silent arrival at this park.  Bluffers is usually hosting lots of like-minded mallards, and a few tagged cignets for contrast.  That’s par for the site.  Then a single pintail flew in and landed with a muffled splash like a skilled pilot in a floatplane.  Eventually it entered the arena and gradually mingled with the mallards looking for some of the feed previously offered by park visitors.  Not having had any lunch I was also tempted.  You should have heard all those small-minded mallards, tightly clustered like dull-witted gossips at a party, choking on their own vituperation toward so dapper a party-crasher. Merely the requisite ruckus implicit with contagious jealousy.  Bottom line:  a male pintail is one fine duck.  The sun disappeared behind thin cloud just before it arrived and I was just planning to leave because of the cold.