It’s that time of year again. The ducks on the pond near our
house are showing up with tiny parades of ducklings trailing behind. At first
they’re cute little balls of fuzz. I love to see how fast
they can scoot in the water when it dawns on them that they’re closer to me than
they are to their mothers. In a matter of weeks I won’t be able to distinguish
them from mom and dad without hearing their voices. This is also the time of
year when people love to feed the ducks. They come with sacks full of dry,
hard, stale bread that they toss in whole slices, forgetting that ducks have no
teeth. Eventually seagulls come and clean up the mess. I wish I could post a
sign saying, “Ducks may be fed ONLY when snow and ice cover their REAL food.”
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