Ducks In A Row
40 x 80 cm. (15.7" x 31.5")
Available · inquire for pricing · email: robert@nitiredjo.com
Mallards are the most abundant and recognizable ducks in the world. We see them everywhere around us, in ponds, marshes, streams and lakes. Many of us even grew up feeding them bits of bread when we were little.
Because they are so familiar, it is easy to overlook how beautiful they are. The males have shiny green heads, sharp white necklaces and cute curly tail feathers. The females have a more subtle, camouflaged appearance, but they are just as stunning. I always try to find beauty in ordinary things as a simple mindfulness practice. The humble mallard is definitely worth a closer look the next time you come across one.
The ducks in this painting are quietly drifting across the water, as they usually do in real life. But something else is happening in the peaceful pond.
While the others keep gliding along, one suddenly flaps its wings and flies off in the opposite direction. It makes you wonder what changed for that duck. Did something catch its eye, did it hear a call, where is it going?
There is comfort in staying with the group. Following familiar routines feels safe because we know what to expect. Many of us live our lives in the same way. We follow well-worn paths and repeat habits that have become second nature. It’s easy to let routine become automatic, allowing the mind to drift through days without much awareness.
But life reminds us that nothing stays the same. Circumstances shift, plans fall apart, and the certainty we work so hard to build can disappear without warning. Money, titles and relationships cannot protect us from the unpredictable nature of reality.
This is what draws me to the duck taking flight. It is leaving behind routine, comfort and security. Not out of rebellion, but out of recognition. Something in its inner compass has changed. Taking such a step is frightening, yet it is also a real beginning. The calm water is left behind, and the open sky becomes a possibility.
What lies beyond the predictable pond is not guaranteed triumph or clarity. It is open space. It is a wider view of the world. In the sky, the mallard meets new currents and learns from them. It discovers that uncertainty can teach, and that solitude can help you listen more closely.
Leaving the pond was not a mistake, but a necessary part of becoming its true self. As the landscape changes, the mallard realizes it is capable of more than it ever imagined.
Growth in this metaphor is not about rejecting the row. It is about noticing when the row no longer reflects who you are becoming. The mallard’s flight shows that awakening often begins with a simple, brave shift. When you look at this painting, I hope it invites you to ask yourself a simple question. Are you staying where life feels comfortable, or is there a part of you that is ready for takeoff?
"When you leave the familiar behind, you trade predictability for potential."
