There’s a special kind of magic that happens when you’re out in nature and stumble upon a moment that takes your breath away. That’s exactly how I felt when I met Q-Ball, a California quail, during a recent visit to a local pond.
The pond was bustling with activity—mallards, wood ducks, and ring-neck ducks all swimming about, eagerly waiting for a treat. Among the chaos, I noticed a small, cautious figure weaving in and out of the brush. With seed in hand, I quietly sprinkled a little closer to the edge, and out he came. Tiny, quick, and full of determination, Q-Ball darted between the larger ducks, grabbing bits of seed where he could.
At first, photographing him was a challenge. He was so small and skittish, constantly dodging and weaving between the bigger birds like a pro. I found myself grinning as I watched his clever movements, but I knew I wanted to capture a few solo shots of him. That’s when I enlisted the help of my Aunt. She gently led the ducks further down the pond, giving Q-Ball the space to come out of hiding. And that’s when the magic truly happened.
I turned away for just a moment when my Aunt suddenly exclaimed, “Look, look!” Spinning back around, I saw Q-Ball perched confidently on the back of a park bench. My heart skipped a beat. There he was, looking absolutely regal, surveying the chaos below with what I can only describe as a mix of curiosity and pride. He walked back and forth along the bench, pausing every so often to glance at me, almost as if to say, “Are you getting my good side?”
What about this side?
I couldn’t hold back my joy. My heart was doing somersaults, though I had to resist the urge to do an actual happy dance—something I tend to do when wildlife moments leave me utterly delighted. Instead, I whispered to him, “Oh my word, you are gorgeous.” And it felt like he knew. His glances became a little bashful, almost like he was saying, “Aw, shucks.”
What struck me most about Q-Ball was how round he was. I named him after a cue ball because of his perfectly plump and fluffy appearance. I wasn’t sure if he was just puffed up against the cold or if he was truly that round, but his shape only added to his charm. Watching him, I marveled at the intricate patterns and colors of his feathers—how could one small bird carry such a dazzling mix of hues and textures? It was like he’d been painted by the finest artist.
Q-Ball wasn’t just beautiful—he was resilient, clever, and full of personality. In those moments, watching him navigate the world with grace and intelligence, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration. How lucky I was to cross paths with such a remarkable little bird.
As I left the pond that day, I carried Q-Ball’s image in my heart—his boldness, his beauty, and his little “oh shucks” expressions. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again, but I’ll always remember that small, skittering quail who brought me so much joy on an ordinary day.
Very unique.
My favourite