Mallards are mad about me.
How could they not adore me? Every time I meander over to see those mallards, I toss a large bag of crumbed-up bread into the water for them. They usually congregate daily for a morning meet and greet at the branch of the Ecorse Creek beneath the footbridge. That was my destination today, but first …
I waited forever for the sky to brighten up so I could slip out of the house for that walk this morning. The sensor light out front was still lit up and the sky was dark and gloomy as I got dressed to go.
The cold and darker mornings have meant a loss of spontaneity for walking … it’s hard to just clip on the pedometer and grab the camera and set out when you have layer upon layer to don first.
I needed a break from my computer as it has been a busy week. It is usually that way with a long holiday, especially a four-day holiday. You work at breakneck speed before, then after – at least, that’s the way it always seems to be. It was month end and it is nearing year end, so I have been tethered to the keyboard.
But, for all my grumbling, I am back here again … typing on the same keyboard, fingers poised as words go directly from my brain to my nimble fingers.
I have also had a frustrating week dealing with the aftermath of the windstorm on November 24th. The metal shed that went airborne continues to languish in the backyard, but, I think, finally, fingers crossed, the details are firmed up for it to go this weekend. The broken cross-bar and address sign on the light post that went sailing into the air and landed onto the bushes at its base when the tree trimmers misjudged where the tree would fall, remains at issue as well. The owner’s suggested fix was “Gorilla Glue”.
Too many details, too little time – so I had to get outta here, even just for a short while. A little escape for my mind and my feet as well.
Needing a little nature infusion, I figured today was the day to go duck watchin’.
I searched the freezer for some old bread heels and set them out to defrost to crumb up for the ducks. That, combined with some of my current loaf of marble rye. made them a tasty treat and I’m sure I made their day.
I hustled over to the Harrison Street Bridge, camera and bread in tow. There must have been two dozen mallards milling about in the shallow water, quacking away to anyone who would listen. They seemed oblivious to me standing on the footbridge, that is … until I threw out the first handful of bread.
They paddled over en masse and I smiled as they crowded one another to grab a bite. It got ugly for a few moments, as there is always a malcontent in every crowd. One mischievous mallard swooped in and cut another one off at the pass … his response was much wing-flapping and quacking.
I really wanted to call out “mind your manners” but didn’t want my integrity to be tarnished by such interplay with my feathered friends should somehow drive or walk by.
I finished tossing out the bread and turned the bag upside down for any dregs to float into the water and also so they knew our feeding session was finished. They looked at me rather expectantly, but I told them “that’s it for now” and I turned on my heel, took off and headed for home where another bird would similarly soon look at me when I uncovered him – whatcha got???
Then he will burst into song.