Some of the most beautiful things I’ve seen in my time in the country is the courage and love of animal mothers.

Yesterday, we almost lost a duck and her ducklings right in front of me while I was driving.

Living amidst human beings, animal mothers often have to be brave and resourceful to give birth with human beings nearby.

When it comes to animals, we are almost all serial killers; we just bulldoze our way into their lives without much thought.

The animal mother bodies I see on the road symbolize our cruelty and laziness and our failure to consider our partners on the earth.

Yesterday, I was driving down the busy highway in front of the farm, and just ahead of my car, a mother duck marched right into the front of me with three ducklings in tow.

It would have made a wonderful picture, but it was instead horrifying. She could hardly have picked a worse place to cross. It looked to be a race she couldn’t possibly win.

I couldn’t have been more than six or seven feet from her when I stopped. Under normal circumstances, it would have been the cutest thing.

As it was, I almost slaughtered all of them.

And I couldn’t bear the thought of a truck or car slaughtering the mother and her ducklings from the other side of the road.

I slammed on the brakes, stopped just a few inches from the mother, and saw a truck speeding towards us in the other lane. He was about 100 yards away.

The mother slowed, sensing trouble, then stopped. She looked alarmed and confused. But she wasn’t running anywhere.

Without thinking much, I jumped out of the car and jumped over the mother – who did not leave her babies even as I lunged in front of her – and stood in the road waving my arms at the truck heading our way.

The truck driver stopped and slammed on his brakes. I was preparing to lunge out of the way if he couldn’t do it, but I saw that he was stopping with some room to spare.

I got behind the three peeping chicks – the mother flapped her wings at me, preparing to fight – and I stomped my foot and shouted and clapped, “hey mom, get your ass out of the road!”

I mostly waved and shouted. Then I reached into the car and got my new Bronx Zoo sweatshirt out, and started waving it at her.

She started moving, eager to get her family away from this lunatic. But she couldn’t move after faster than her tiny family, and they couldn’t move very quickly. They had about 12 feet to go to get to safety.

I saw the truck driver had gotten out of his truck, run behind it, and he was waving at the cars behind him to stop.

Mom took the hint and started moving towards the other side, turning and keep a very close eye on her babies.

In a minute or so, she had gotten them safely across the road, and with an indignant honk in my direction, they all vanished into the woods.  I heard some applause from the cards behind me; they had stopped, having little choice.

When I looked up, traffic was backed up a good way in both lines, and I got in the car and started moving.

So did the truck; as he passed by me, he opened his door, leaned down, and offered me a high five, which I took smiling, and I also added thumbs up.

I felt a great bond with him, two men taking the trouble to save a duck and her ducklings.  We were both smiling; it feels good to do good. I saw lots of smiling in the cars as I drove up the road. People are good, especially face-to-face and without a computer screen to hide behind.

He saved those ducks; there was no way they could have made it across the trucks and cars coming the other way.

Since I began to live with animals, I’ve been deeply moved over the years watching the Good Mothers of the animal world.

Animal mothers take wonderful care of their babies, bring them food, teaching patiently, watching closely.

Sometimes it breaks your heart, as when I see a raccoon mother or possum or deer or turkey mother standing by the side of a baby hit by a car and refusing to leave.

I saw a ewe risk her life to step between two coyotes and her lambs, and a mother deer sacrifice her life to a car to her doe a chance to getaway.

Or vice versa, I’ve seen confused and frightened babies refusing to leave their dead mothers after they’ve been struck by a car or truck.

When Maria and I were in the barn this morning, we saw a barn swallow sitting on the pole barn barrier; she kept looking at us and wouldn’t leave. We looked up and saw a nest with three babies in it.

The mother didn’t take her eyes off us; we were sweeping the floor just underneath her nest.

She wouldn’t leave them, and every few minutes, she dove towards us,  trying to drive us away or sacrifice herself for her babies. Then she would go back to her perch, trying to draw our attention.

We finished our sweeping quickly and got out of the barn.

We did our cleaning chores and got out of the way. The barn swallows are wonderful mothers; they always watch out for them, bringing them worms, dive-bombing dogs, and people who get too close.

I thought of all the good mothers I have seen on the farm and just had to write and say something about them.

Here’s to you, mothers of the animal world. You are brave and conscientious in the face of an uncaring and dangerous world.