It's been a while.

I have to thank the garden for hours of joyous work throughout the past weeks. Everything else has been neglected in my desire to get my hands in the dirt each morning. My exercise routine has become spotty. Walks have all but disappeared from daily life. Housework? What's that? Meals are planned for their easy preparation. The gardens trump all. 

So, today, with the last of my seedlings now in the ground and the temperature cool, I was pretty pleased with myself with the decision to head down for my waterfront walk. As physical as my gardening has been, my muscles weren't overly happy to walk this distance.

When I arrived at the third pier, I decided to sit on the old iron post that ships would once have tied their lines to (I preferred to think of this as my reflection time instead of a rest). I assume I have the seagulls to thank for the mess on the top of the post but saw enough clear space for my toosh and settled down for my ruminations.

A random wipe of my rear as I rose again brought a rude awakening. I unwittingly sat on some of the poop.

My first thought was curiosity: 'Does sitting on it bring as much luck as we are said to receive when it lands on us directly from the sky?'

My next thought was 'Oh, no. Apparently, the old toosh takes up more space than it once did!' This walk had better be the first of many more.

I soon forgot my widening rear though as, returning along the path, I frightened a mother duck. Out of the corner of my eye, I sensed more than saw as she swept a smaller duck off the path back to the water. I watched as Mother led the way, swimming in and around a myriad of stones, steering a surprising seven babies through this circuitous route out to safety in the water. 

It was a delightful scene. Like all toddlers, they dipsy-doodled after Mother, around these same stones, butting into each other, eventually making it out to clear water. As I watched, the last baby, clearly impatient and fearless, took a different approach. It jumped onto a stone and twaddled atop each one until it reached the last  stone where it jumped into the water and joined the family.

What would a family be without a little rebellion?