Duck Files Noise Complaint Against Fountain

A mallard living on the ornamental pond in Blackthorn Park has lodged a formal complaint about the fountain installed at the centre of the pond in April. In a statement delivered from the north bank at some volume, the duck described the fountain’s noise as constant, unnecessary and, in its own words, “water pretending to be busy.” The complaint was witnessed by two dog walkers, a pushchair and a man eating a sandwich, who says he now feels partly responsible.

The fountain runs from seven in the morning until dusk. The duck, which has held the north bank since March, says the installation went ahead without consultation, and that at no stage was any resident bird asked whether the pond needed additional water. “The pond,” the duck pointed out, “is already water.” It added that it had been perfectly willing to discuss a small ornamental rock, but that a jet of spray fired into the air every eleven seconds was a different matter entirely.

Parks staff declined to comment. A spokesbird for the three coots at the far end of the pond said the coots held no view on the matter, then swam away at considerable speed, which observers took to be a view. The resident moorhen was not available for comment, having gone under the lily pads the moment the fountain was mentioned, as it does whenever anything is mentioned. The goldfish have offered no public position, but have been seen gathering near the jet.

The complaint requests that the fountain be switched off between two and four in the afternoon. Pressed on the significance of those hours, the duck said only that some of us are trying to sleep, and that the pond had for years been entirely adequate at making its own noise, which was none. A petition has been started on the bench nearest the bins. So far it has three signatures, all of them footprints, and a small amount of bread.

The comedy is built on something real about park ponds. Ducks and other water birds quickly settle into favourite spots, and anyone who visits a local park regularly will recognise the same birds dozing in the same sunny corner at the same time of day. A new sound or a new structure can briefly unsettle them, and people watching often read strong opinions into a ruffled feather or a loud, indignant quack. It is hard not to take a duck’s side.

So the next time a fountain hisses away beside a pond full of dozing birds, spare a thought for whoever held that bank first. The water is not really pretending to be busy, and the duck is not really filing paperwork, but there is something very familiar about wanting a quiet corner to stay quiet. Some of us, after all, are trying to sleep. The fountain has not responded, and at the time of writing it is still running.