Today was one of those days when I took the definition of living to a child's level - experiencing the wonder, the elegance, the beauty (and the quirks!) of nature. I got called out for a playdate with my six-year-old brother, an honor I readily enjoy.
I had the bright idea to take the little fellow to the duck pond and spent a good two hours following him around as he collected various feathers, stirred the waters with a stem of leaves, and generally terrorized the water fowl. To be fair, he was respectful enough not to chase after the ducks, though he did try to sprinkle them with water on numerous occasions. There were plenty of other visitors to the pond, most of whom toted plastic bags of bread. We came across a young couple with their toddler son tossing slices of pumpernickel into the waters, which were eagerly snapped up by scores of Mallard ducks. However, I must say that the white bread was still apparently more desirable by those finicky eaters.
It was a prime opportunity to observe the birds up-close and personal, so I pointed out all the brightly colored and glossy feathers on the drakes versus the ducks with their little purple stripe but otherwise neutral coloring. Then we noticed a white duck, slightly larger than most of the Mallards, who seemed to travel in a pack of Mallard escorts who were roughly the same size (and girth). If that were not enough incentive to break out in peals of childlike laughter, there was a flock of pigeons constantly circling the pond and swooping at great speed without warning. My little brother ducked each time and cried out, "Air raid!"
The crown sighting of the day were a pair of Canada geese, swimming in tandem to and fro across the pond. Their gracefulness was worthy of awe, indeed - I couldn't tell you if I actually stood agape for any amount of time, but I definitely followed their elegant movements with appreciation. It reminds me of a favorite childhood movie, Fly Away Home, which is about the true story of some Canada geese which were rescued by a schoolgirl and raised domestically until they were of migrating age. She taught them to fly using a specially designed aircraft with the help of her father and accompanied the birds on their first southward migration trip into the United States. As I watched the two larger birds glide across the water, my little brother turned to me and said, "I think they're a couple."
Awwww.
I hope many more moments like this will follow. After all, life is too short to die.
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