Monday, February 10, 2014

A Day at the Duck Pond

Brenda Starr and I went to Reid Park today.
I'm sorry if you are stuck in your homes, fed up to your eyeballs with Snow Days.
We stripped off our sweatshirts half-way through our stroll. 

A prophylactic pee, as Brother instructed my nieces, is a necessary and wise step to take before embarking on any kind of physical activity.
This sign on the bathroom door led to much snarkiness,
although the event itself was unremarkable.

Then, it was off to meander around the duck pond, 
marveling at all we did not know about our amphibious friends.

This fellow has a lovely brown head and longer than average feet.
 Ruler of the roost, this fellow 
 was followed by three beautiful ladies in white
We never did figure out why this one wing was stuck up in the air,
 or why this one has such odd feet.
Brenda Starr carried stale hot dog buns which we provided, gratis, to the beasts.
It was only after we had tossed the empty bag that we noticed the Do Not Feed the Ducks sign.
The fact that it was posted 15' above our heads on a lamp post is our excuse.
We're not going to mention how much fun it was to watch as first a few
were noticed by their peers,
who came quickly across the pond.
 Not content to nibble what was tossed into the water, they began to venture onto the land,
 more and more of them
until it started to get just a little bit creepy.

Brenda Starr, animal person that she is, didn't seem to mind.
I took a deep breath or six and suggested that we continue on our way.

There were turtle climbing on the rocks,
 probably released by families who no longer wanted them as pets.
It's not a good idea, as the slime on the shell of this fellow will attest.

There was more sorrow on the other side of the pond. 
This poor creature was sitting in the sun, nursing what looked to be lethal wounds.
Upon closer examination, they appeared to be superficial, although we weren't sure about the neck area.
Brenda Starr's call to Wildlife Rescue was returned within minutes.
If we could get the bird into a car, we knew where to take it for care.

Halfway around the pond, on our way back to retrieve the patient,
we saw this: 

Yes, there it was, in a shallow pool, protected from incursions by others,
but willing to munch on the remains of the hot dog buns.

Reassured that all was right in the world, we took a seat on a bench and watched these (cormorants?)
watching the world go by.

It was a lovely Sunday morning.

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