Third Floor: Easter is a time for ducks | Maryland Gazette (HometownGlenBurnie.com)

If there's one thing about our Easter that might be different than yours, it's George and Martha.

Not the Washingtons: this couple is a pair of mallards that has been returning to the intersection that forms the corner we share with our neighbors. Each year around this time the ducks make their reappearance to the delight of our collective kids.

We're a block off a creek that feeds right into the Chesapeake Bay, and these ducks seem to find our soggy front yards the perfect place to work on producing a family.

If you don't pay much attention to these things, you might have missed a recent report by the Department of Natural Resources that it's a good time to be a mallard in Maryland.

The Mid-Winter Waterfowl Survey, a combined effort of biologists along the Atlantic Flyway, found that Maryland's mallard population rose to 55,000 this year. That's a five-year high, and while not a lot by long-term historic standards it's a big increase over the last two years. The speculation is that a more typical Maryland winter had something to do with the boost.

Surely George and Martha didn't.

Over the last few years, my kids have watched with growing concern as their neighborhood ducks failed again and again to produce a duckling.

Each year, George follows Martha dutifully around our yard, across the street into our neighbors' yard and back again. They've been dutifully followed by children ranging in age from 3 to 14, dutifully chased by neighborhood dogs and caused enough drivers to hit their brakes to require a flagman on duty.

George has warded off a succession of competitors for Martha's affections, leading a seasonal little parade around their strange, suburban route.

None of their efforts ever seem to, well, hatch. My next door neighbor, a second-grade teacher who named the ducks a few years back, has worried out loud that there might be something not quite right with Martha.

She's left eggs in our lawns, among the shrubs, in the drainage ditches and even in the road itself. My kids have picked up their share, an obstacle to procreation if ever there was one.

One year my dog got loose and managed to slip up on an unsuspecting Martha. I've never been sure who got the bigger surprise: the bird or the dog. As Martha took a hop-skip-and-jump start on a short flight to safety she popped an egg out right into my dog's snout.

George only hangs around until the eggs are laid, standard behavior for drakes. Usually, a hen lays between eight and 13 eggs, which incubate for 27-28 days before hatching. Maybe there's a nest somewhere we haven't seen, but no line of ducklings has been spotted after George vanishes.

Despite their failures and the challenging habitat, though, these ducks keep coming back. There are probably other Georges and Marthas out there, and it's certainly an act of faith that we believe these are the same two.

Mallards are common, so much so that it's hard to argue they're special. Hunters and kids with bread crumbs may be their biggest fans.

Over the years I've worked on dozens of stories about mallards in various forms of spring trouble. One repeating theme has been the endless number of ducklings who require rescue after falling into a storm drain.

If you ever find yourself in this situation, a broom with a wad of the ironically named duct tape stuck on the end works well.

Yet seeing George's handsome green head bobbing along in our yard is as sure a sign of spring as the crocuses and daffodils. Even though Martha's drab brown feathers aren't as beautiful, she's clearly attractive to him.

Maybe it's that hint of iridescent purple-blue in her wing feathers. Or maybe it's the time of year when it's easy to believe in another opportunity, in hope rekindled and of the possibility of rebirth.

That is the blessing we celebrate on Sunday. Happy Easter.

Rick Hutzell is the editor of the Maryland Gazette. E-mail him at rhutzell@mdgazette.com