The year of the duck
City Park was so beautiful this morning. The crepe myrtles and the cypress are the only trees in fall color – and the crepes give an array of yellows to rust, but the cypress have turned an umber color that is just magical. As I rounded the bend to come back towards home, I noticed many pockets of people throwing bread to the ducks and then a clandestine circle of ducks holding an impromptu meeting under a large cypress. Here’s what they were saying:
Turkeys are in, ducks are out. We made it another year. Woo hoo!