Nederland has a hell of a lot of rivers, canals and drains. Right now the rivers, canals and drains are mostly frozen over, and the snow lies on the ice like icing sugar. In the larger rivers and canals, there are still pools of water here and there – under the bridges, and where the canals join and the water flows more swiftly.
Ice does funny things to wildlife. Winter is a social time for the water birds. Normally they are either solitary or in pairs, but now the ducks, geese, swans and coots all gather together in flocks. They stand around on the ice, but seem to tire of that, so head for the shrinking pools of water to rest. The coots, looking like hybrid pukekos, walk confidently on the iced-up canals toward the water. About a foot short of the water, the ice breaks under their weight. They look very surprised and utterly undignified! They swim through the thin ice, breaking a little passage until they reach the open water.
The ducks, waddling along the canal with less grace and much less confidence, have a very different approach. One after the other, about twenty feet short of the water, they suddenly take off, flying low over the ice and landing with dignity and aplomb in the water, where they immediately swim to the left or right, clearing the landing path for the following ducks. That strategy never seems to occur to the coots, even though they are skilful flyers who usually land elegantly in water.
Neither species likes landing on the ice from the air, so they avoid doing that unless they have no choice. They slide completely out of control when they land on it, and we see the skid-marks. So their strategy on leaving the water to return to the ice is to swim toward the edge of the ice and right into it, like feathered ice-breakers. When the ice no longer yields, they climb on to it – a little clumsily but with much less drama than when landing on it.
But ice does even funnier things to scared rabbits in a hurry. At least, it did funny things to one rabbit that I scared without meaning to do so. I approached the edge of a frozen canal to get a closer look. The land around was six inches deep in snow, the frozen vegetation on the edge of the ice dripping with the thick icing. So I crunkled towards it. I did not see the rabbit concealed right on the edge of the vegetation, and as my boots fell right beside it, it finally panicked, bolting from beside my feet straight onto the ice, in two bounds. Normally, rabbits cross frozen water as easily as any other animal. But a frightened rabbit tries to keep on bounding. Heh heh – that’s impossible! The hind legs have no purchase on ice, so instead of bounding, the rabbit slithered, about six inches at a time.
My laughter didn’t help – it just terrified the poor scared rabbit even more. I think it took twenty slithering bounds to travel ten feet along the canal. At last, it climbed out onto the bank, and stood panting and exhausted, in full view, until it regained its breath enough to slip under cover.
There is one species to which the ice does even funnier things. Humans, of course. It makes all of them insanely happy!
