Recent rains swelled our backyard miniponds, making a mini-heaven for the resident duck brigade. During the dry spell, they had wandered about the dessicated landscape as if transported to the moon. That's Daisy (a Pekin), Molly (a runner duck), Ronnie and Swee' Pea (male and female mallards).
Sometime I would like to conduct a Metaphor summer camp, in which the happy campers sit on the fence inbetween balancing acts and periods of toeing the line. They will learn what it really feels like to have a long row to hoe, or to herd cats, or, lacking cats in sufficient number, then how to save nine by stitching in time.
If they balk, then the resident fowl can show them how to take to a task like ducks to water, and shed life's setbacks like water off a duck's back.
And when they've thoroughly mastered their metaphors, they will leave camp at the end of the week
with their ducks all in a row.
No comments:
Post a Comment