Springtime
Last night my latest roommate and I went to the city's riverside park with a camera and the one bread heel that we had lying in the fridge. The snow is melting into a deliciously deafening torrent that couldn't flow by without us paying it proper tribute. The temperature called for a light jacket and sandals, and the colors of the sky and the world called for quiet delight.It took us a while to find free parking in the nearby downtown area, and once we got to the park it still took some exploring to find the actual river, though we could hear it from a long way off.
The first fine Friday night of the spring had also brought many young couples to the park. Purposeful young females strolled contentedly, leading dazed young males by the hand and occasionally wrapping them up for our-own-little-world sessions. It was a beautiful night, and the air was quite more than figuratively intoxicating; I couldn't even be cynical about the lingering lovers.
There are quiet artificial pond-like offshoots of the river where the domesticated duckies frolic. When we came upon this area, the dim light partially illuminated the last bread-feeders, six fat ducks and one sedate Canada goose swimming steadily against the current to keep from drifting downstream.
The six mallards were grouped in three male-female couples. As we tossed small pieces of our paltry portion of bread into the water, the males floated listlessly while the females industriously chased down and gobbled every crumb. When any of the couples moved to a different part of the pond, it was done the same way: the purposeful female swam with the male in close tow.
The Canada goose had the look of an old dignified bachelor, ignoring both the crumbs we tossed and the smaller ducks that lingered in the waning twilight. His primary resolution in life seemed to be the prevention of any bother to himself. He probably prefers Rainbow vitamin-fortified white bread, and that crummy 12-grain was an insult to his tastes.
I don't know if one species learned it from the other, but there is a remarkable similarity between our feathered friends and our human strangers. Springtime has a way of doing that throughout the carbon-based ecosystem -- maybe even beyond.
posted by Lynn @ 3:23 PM
4 Comments:
*Pity comment*
Gheekheeheehee
Seriously, though, makes me think of the brief acquaintance we made with those duckies in Iowa (boy and a girl, as I recall). Good times.
If only spring-time existed in mississippi.
;-)
Spring is finally here for good in Minnesota. We had record temps of nearly 90 in mid-March, then barely got above freezing for the next 3 weeks. But finally, that appears to be behind us and the grass is greening and the buds are breaking forth.
...and my mother's daffodils are already dried up.
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