Eggs

Hung the new duck house yesterday. On a tree. Near the pond. 7 ft up and 6 ft away. Not precisely up to Ducks Unlimited guidelines. But close enough. Brand spankin’ new kiln dried inland red cedar. We even tossed in two bags of WoodLink’s best ultra high grade wood shavings as extra incentive. Prime soft as a baby’s butt nesting material. In the realm of duckdom, a furnished luxury apartment. Enough to bring out the desire for a sizzling stretch in the hay–or chips–in any female wood duck. Eggs to come. We even hung out a sign. All ducks welcome, regardless of color, race, creed or feather persuasion. Please contact owner. Etc.etc. 
Nothing. By now, we should be up to our ears in ducklings. I’m reminded by friends–those who would admit it–that migration season is in the very earliest of its early phases. Maybe female ducks aren’t ready for a sizzling stretch in the hay–or chips. Who cares? I’ve laid out good money for kiln dried inland cedar. Where are the birds?