Oddments

In search of story


4 Comments

December 6.20: Coping

FASTER! it goaded,

SPEED! it said;

I swallowed hard

and shook my head.

I don’t want fast,

I want some slow;

I want more stop

and not more go.

Network, server,

gigabit,

radio wave:

what is it?

Mega, macro,

ultra and such —

improve my life?

Not so much.

I can’t keep up,

my brain is boxed,

must watch some ducks

and get detoxed.

 


11 Comments

April 15.20: Coping

Yesterday was awful

it started freezing cold

news blizzards swirled around me

I felt beat up and old.

The only thing to do

before I oxidized

was check the windswept pond

for life more civilized.

It seemed I had new neighbors,

two couples, more’s the merry;

I think they’re blue-winged teals —

how very salutary!

 

 

Do you know, dear reader?

Am I becoming duck-savvy?

I grieve to say my buffleheads have not come back.


8 Comments

March 25.20: Coping

The pond always helps me cope. As a body of water, it couldn’t be humbler: a mere retention pond, gunky in the summer, lacking tide and horizon, held in entirety by a few back yards, it is little more than a puffed-up puddle. But I watch it with growing respect and affection. Occasionally I have been weak in the head and have presumed to know it. And then it teaches me I don’t know much.

Case in point: two days ago I spotted what I thought were ducks. Suddenly they were gone and the water was empty. Then they reappeared some place else. I was hallucinating ducks?

Naturally I ran for my camera with its zoom lens. With great ado, I caught a close-up but before I could focus and take a picture they were gone again. Only a flutter of the water remained.

To make an excruciatingly long story short, I ended up with a million bad photos and some time on Google. Now I know there is such a thing as diving ducks. Like quacking submarines: now you see them, now you don’t! And they have  wonderful names! I believe mine are buffleheads. I want them to be buffleheads because I want to be able to say I have buffleheads.

I do try to avoid the word “cute,” but I can’t when describing these. As they paddled toward me, they looked like the cutest salt and pepper shakers I ever did see. Next to the mallards, mere toys.

I hope they come back.