It was spring a few years ago. I was at a birding site, knee deep in grass and sand surrounded by tall green reeds, off the track, chasing what I thought may be a Little Grassbird (very ellusive stripey bird with a distinctive call). It was very snakey and leechy but I was throwing caution to the wind. I came to a tiny creeklet of water, about a foot wide, and a few inches deep. I put one foot over the water, and took my stance, waiting for the Little Grassbird to emerge from the reeds. As I stood waiting, with my binculars down, I heard a tiny rustle and I looked down. A Black Duck came sailing down the tiny creeklet like a silent ghost. There were two ducklings on her back and one trailing her. She went straight underneath me, and kept going.
It was one of those magical moments I've never forgotten. I didn't get a look at the Little Grassbird that day, but it didn't matter. This experience was much better somehow.