Nature has a way of giving me a new perspective. Last year was hard in many ways, and I said goodbye to it with a sigh of relief that I was facing a new year, a new beginning. Since 2025 began, less than a week ago, I have been visiting the same spot regularly—some nearby woods—in search of perspective. There is a small river in the woods, and it isn’t frozen, cold as this month of January is. Consequently, there are many mallards who have taken up residence there. Several times, I have walked to that river to spend time with my wintering duck friends.
I won’t bore you too much with my 2024 problems (we all had them, right?). In short, it was a year of loss, job problems, and I moved from a small town to a city. The move wasn’t negative, just hard. I also had many other (smaller) events that fought to steal joy from my heart. Of course, there were celebrations and moments of laughter and enjoyment, but somehow a cloak of discouragement kept trying to wrap itself around me.
On one of my walks to the river, I had an intention. It was to reset my mind and calm my inner being and refocus on who I am. I felt like a mixed bag of changes and struggles and failures. Just like everyone else experiences at times, I was feeling the effects of a difficult season of life. Before I reached the river, three mallards, two drakes and a female, lifted off the water and flew upstream.
When I saw them fly from the river to the sky, I realized I had much to learn from that river and those ducks. I stayed a long time and watched the water and the many mallards that were enjoying the environment. Those woods became a place of restoration for me. Nature gave me a new perspective.
What I rediscovered in the woods was that I am not my circumstances. I am not my feelings, but a human who, deep inside, lives above the trials of this world. I am me. The river taught me I am adaptable and moving forward. The ducks taught me I am resilient, and contentment is more valuable than success (which varies from person to person).
Watching the River and Lessons from the Water
I crouched near the river. The ground was wet, and I had a long walk home, so I wasn’t interested in soaking myself. Plus, it was cold outside, about 15° Fahrenheit. I alternated between crouching and leaning against a tree. Instinctively, I knew shifting positions would help me stay longer. I really wanted to learn something from the river!
I was near a place on the river where the flow was slow. There were rocks that jutted up and caused ripping and swirling on the water’s surface. The formations were beautiful. Mesmerizing. And very calming. It was exactly what my mind needed.
As I watched the water change shape and flow, I realized how similar my life has been to that river. Changing and flowing. I also realized this is common to all humans and settled in to allow that river to teach me something. What was my focus, anyway? Was I focusing on how hard some changes in my life had been, or was I focusing on the reality that life has and will change in many ways? Here, I was able to accept my human condition.
I also contemplated the way the river flowed. It moved very slowly in some places and more rapidly in others. Upstream seemed very still. It reminded me of the past. I came from somewhere, the past. But what’s done is done, and I can no longer remain upstream. I must keep moving forward, into an unknown future.
The ripples and the swirls and the changing water moving in front of me and flowing downstream. I imagined it flowing somewhere, but I could not see beyond a couple hundred yards. It meandered and moved. The water’s flow adapted to rocks and banks, as it had to, as it should. I, too, could adapt to the rocks and banks of life.
As I surveyed the river, upstream, downstream, ever moving, I found myself smiling. That river was teaching me to accept and allow the flow of life. A deep sense of peace began to sink into my soul.
My thoughts were interrupted by a small flock of swans flying overhead and honking quite loudly. There were five. They were beautiful. And I thought how life is most enjoyed when my mind is fixed on the now. When I’m fully present, I notice and experience what’s going on around me.
Walking along the river, I found myself near a pool of water where there were mallards swimming.
Watching the Ducks and Gaining Perspective
The ducks were swimming in a group, but it was also apparent they were in pairs. Mallards pair up in fall and winter. They start courting during the colder season and stay together for one season. They don’t mate for life, like some other waterfowl.
I watched the mallards, admiring their beauty. The males are striking, with glossy green heads and colorful bodies. The females are mottled brown with an attractive eye stripe. The females are less colorful than the males, but they are more vocal and use that familiar “quack” we hear from ducks.
One thing I love about mallards is the orange feet. The color is beautiful, and the webs allow them to be proficient swimmers. As I watched them paddle, I wondered how they were able to tolerate the cold water. I know they are physically equipped to live in cold water, but it still impressed me. What resilience those ducks have!
As I contemplated their heartiness, I realized I, too, have displayed resilience in my life. Trials and change had created in me the ability to stay afloat and keep moving. Again, I smiled at the lessons I was learning in those woods, near that river.
The other thing I noticed about the ducks was how content they seemed. Here it was January, and they swam easily and calmly in freezing water. Remarkable! Could I swim easily through life, even in harsh conditions? Certainly, I could! I already had and proved to myself I was resilient. My challenge was to remain content with life as it was, sometimes harsh, sometimes pleasant.
Like the mallards, I could gracefully navigate the cold reality that life sometimes was.
After spending a long time in the woods, watching the river and the ducks, I headed for home. Somehow the events of 2024 had diminished, and my mind had become calm. Nature had given me the new perspective I was after. I walked home and into 2025 with a better understanding of who I was. An adaptable and resilient human who was moving forward into an unknown future. And while I don’t know what that future will bring, I do know I can step into it with confidence, fostering contentment as I go.
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