Nature teaches me, and that"s what I write about. My first great lesson from nature was in the summer of "88 while on a weekend motorcycle trip with my new husband, Leonard. We visited Brownville and Auburn Nebraska, known for Indian Caves, local theatre and antique shops.

We stayed in a small locally owned motel adjacent to Rotary Park, which was gift from the local Rotary Club. It has a small wandering lake surrounded by grass, trees, park benches and ducks. We walked out to the park with journals in hand to have quiet time to write and relax. I took a park bench near the water"s edge. Although this man-made lake was edged by a stone curb, there was a small ramp near the bench which provided shallow water for a mother duck and six tiny yellow ducklings. A goose, which I dubbed "Uncle Goose" was always nearby and obviously a part of the family.

Mother duck seemed intent upon keeping her duckies in the shallow. I sat and watched them paddle around, Mother squawking now and then at the ever-wandering chicks. Leonard and I enjoyed the pastoral morning scene.

All of a sudden, all hell broke loose. Mother was squawking up a storm and flapping her wings. The duckies were in a flurry headed for shore.

Leonard stood and pointed toward the water. "It"s gone!"

"What"s gone?" I gasped, confused.

"It"s gone! I was watching a duckling there and it"s just gone!"

We walked over to the edge. The ducks were up on shore now, still making a racket. We looked down into the water. I saw a little duckie under water, its head two to three inches below the surface, straining for air. A big bubble came from its tiny beak.

Leonard said "Reach in and get it."

Slightly amused that he wanted me to reach in, yet sensing a great urgency, I knelt down and stuck my hand into the water. I heard music from "Jaws." I hesitantly reached down just below the duckie"s head and pulled a bit. Realizing this wouldn"t work, I reached down further and held it from just under its body. I pulled, knowing that some terrible creature was very near my fingers. The tension was released I pulled quickly. The duckie came out in my hand, followed very quickly by a turtle - flying into the air a full five inches from the water before falling back in.

I looked the duckie over. No broken legs. Head still attached. I brought it over to the shaken family, ten feet away, still running around and making noise. Mother looked it over, and then walked away for a bit, squawking and irritated. The trauma of finding the chick seemed almost as great as losing it.

We left the lake soon after that, but returned the next morning. I was so proud that I had saved the life of one of the six duckies, and wanted to check in on them. I was shocked when I saw only four duckies. Two were gone! The turtle! I looked at them more closely. Was one of them the one I saved? Was he one of the victims? There was no way to know, and my heart fell.

As we settled in again with our journals, we watched Uncle Goose and Mother take the remaining children for a journey out across the lake. The chicks seemed to love it, but when there was a large splash in the water close behind the last one in line, the four darted to Mother, and stayed right with her. After the swim, Mother led the duckies across the grass and through a shack to a small fenced pond. While they were gone, we discussed the disappearing duckies. Five minutes later, the group returned. Mother was followed by only three duckies. So fast! Another one gone!

We understood the problem. The small fenced-in duckling pond had been infested by turtles, and they could no longer be protected. I understood that the chicks seemed doomed. My heart was heavy.

We returned the next morning for one last look before going home, afraid of what we"d find. There were Mother, Uncle Goose and two duckies. A mother loosing her children one at a time and I couldn"t help her. I saved one life, but even that made no difference. We knew that soon they would all be gone.

Sometimes, no matter how hard I try, no matter how much I do, it won"t be enough. I understand now, that the phrase "You can do anything if you try hard enough." is a grand lie. Acceptance is sometimes a necessary virtue. This is a sad lesson. True. But its an important lesson a society which tends to avoid weakness, failure, death, even finishing second place.

Now I have a grand challenging life with many successes. I have many things to be proud of. I have great dreams that will become realities. I expect to have a successful, joyful life. I also acknowledge that it won"t be perfect - I have learned that sometimes "sh^t happens."