We had just survivied a wildlife encounter a minute earlier. A ptarmigan hen with 4 or 5 tiny chicks was on a grass hummock in the pond, and as we passed, the hen flew off, and one of the chicks fell into the water. When Mike bent down to rescue it, Mom went ballistic in a whirl of wings and claws. While Mike retreated, the chick swam back to the grass as calmly as any duck.
June or July, 1982.