I was looking, fruitlessly, for the American Dipper in the waterfall area downstream from the footbridge halfway between Estes and Kipling St. when a Mallard appeared just feet away from me. I recognized her by the green-olive tip of her bill: it was the female of the late-hatched pair I’ve been watching for the past several weeks. She thrust her head into the rushing water repeatedly, as I had often seen the pair do.

Mallard
I probably wouldn’t recognize the male anymore; after sporting a green bill and juvenal plumage all fall, now he probably looks exactly like all the other Mallard drakes in the creek.
Maybe it’s my imagination, but the tip of the female’s bill may be becoming more orange now. She’s looking more like any other Mallard female.

Mallard
So perhaps I won’t be able to recognize either one by sight anymore. Yet if I see a Mallard foraging like an American Dipper, or if I see one chomping after dragonflies in the summer, I’ll have to wonder . . . and remember this pair from the fall of 2021.