Duck, Duck … No Goose (’Nother Duck!)
That’s what paraded across the path in front of Emma and me as we walked north along Bear’s Ditch, which runs past the east side of the RGNC preserve. Emma was cool and didn’t try to fetch any of them.
They were all drab - not a shiny green head in sight. Either they’ve yet to molt and get their autumn plumage or it was a Lesbian Mallard Collective. Anything’s possible.
A little farther on a roadrunner ran up the path a ways ahead of us before vanishing in the weeds alongside the road. Which have gotten lush just the last few days.
This was a good thing to do - walk by the ditch. It was a very pleasant late-summer afternoon: fair, I think the word is, with stormy-looking clouds off to east and north and clear overhead. Not too hot, although a bit humid yet. The occasional breeze was highly welcome.
I know I need to get religious about walking every single day. It was hard to do so during Bubonicon. I’ll learn eventually how to get it all done.
Oh - not long after we set out up the path a pleasant but somewhat oblivious middle-aged woman approached from the other direction, talking on her cell phone and trailing an unleashed micro-dog. Little terrier-looking thing, white and brown, wiry hair. Probably weighed less than Emma’s head - which, granted, is a big head.
Fortunately Emma found a nice place to go into the water and soak as they passed, although she stared alertly at the woman the whole time. As the woman came up with us she turned around and went back to pick up her dog and carry it past - which mainly just protracted the encounter. Although I give her credit for making an effort to keep the little critter out of harm’s possible way.
So after they passed Emma emerged - and turned around to peer suspiciously after them. She even made as if to follow. I brought that up right short.
“Emma, that tiny little dog does not threaten us. Come on.”
And her return look plainly said, “Dad! It might have poison fangs!”
Tags: Birding, poison fangs