Wood ducks hold a special place in my heart. Many years ago, I accompanied my father to his trapline along the Staunton River one cold December morning. As we approached a conibear set, we could not believe our eyes. In the trap was a drake woodie. The best part was, he was very much alive. Dad took his time and slowly released the trap while I held the beautifully feathered duck in my hands. Once the duck was free from the trap, I held him for a few minutes while we made sure he was safe and then I released him. It never fails when I hear a wood duck calling that I think about that woodie drake!
Watch as these baby woodies leap from their nest box. Makes you wonder how they survive their free fall as their mother calls to them from below. Seems if they survive their first outing they can survive most anything! I know one that did!