WHAT WILL THE WOOD DUCK DO?
by Dale Crider
| Will the wings away whistle for the lovely Carolina Duck species AIX SPONSA or Floridana Summer Duck When the draglines of danger are through What will the Wood Duck do? Wood Ducks on wings are mighty pretty things contented to flatter your sky Compassioned to flight in the secrets of might or dash in the blink of an eye. Where will the Wood Duck find a nest Will there be flooded savannahs and hollow ol' cypress? When the draglines of drainers are through What will the Wood Duck do? Wood Ducks in swamps where the Will-o-the-Whisp haunts there's a cycle so misunderstood the drainers have tried but the swamps have not dried where the natural systems withstood And on the wings of this bird whose whistle is heard, whose beauty none can compare... Will the wings away whistle o'er flooded savannahs, hollow ol' cypress or dredged Floridana? When the draglines of danger are through, What will the Wood Duck do What will the Wood Duck do? |
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by Dale and Linda Crider As morning beams upon the marsh Where haunts the waterfowl, A quiet kind of kingdom in these rivers, swamps, and land And I find the natural meaning of these cycles in the sand. It's the cycles in the sand It's the question of man It's cause for conservation in the Florida land use plan It's a sensible delight ripe for coming generations A softer path to travel and a challenge to the nation. Eye witness Florida's beauty in the whistle of a quail lightered stumps and cabbage palms and Florida cracker tales. Spinning on the memories of William Bartram's Trails a search for perfect balance on an ecologic scale. What better way to understand a stately Florida pine or listen to the howls of the hurricane of time And speak for wildlife reasons in the uses of the land and write the cycling future in the Plan. It's the cycles in the sand It's the question of man It's cause for conservation in the Florida land use plan. It's a sensible delight ripe for coming generations A softer path to travel and a challenge to the nation. by Dale Crider A panther eyes extinction from the part of the glades Where the last sloughs of cypress stand to be saved It's a habitat remainder, not much that's left Just the last screams of panther squawling for help. Last screams of panther squawling for help. The snail kite in the sawgrass is desperate and spent Neath the borders of the levees where the Everglades went The apple snail no longer is abundantly found In the man-managed water the big cities pump down, In the man-managed water the big cities pump down. (repeat chorus) On the Roseate Spoonbill where the crocodile hides The Mangrove Coocoo, where the otter pup slides The last stalk for Wood Stork Rare corral, Key Deer Screaming extinction in the big cities ears, Screaming extinction in the big cities ears. So the panther eyes extinction from the part of the glades Where the last sloughs of cypress stand to be saved It's a habitat remainder of not much that's left Just the last screams of panther squawling for help, Last screams of panther squawling for help. Help, Help, Help. . . (Panther Scream) |
