08 July 2021

Episode 127: Ducklings

We walk the dog every morning and our walks take us past some of the drainage ponds that dot our little subdivided corner of the world. The pond in question - the pond that inspired this poem - is affectionately called "The Duck Pond" by my wife and me. Because last Fall we saw a number of ducks congregating there, I mean, it's pretty simple. Anyway, while walking the dog one morning recently I noticed a big white heron (egret? I think this was a heron, for the purposes of the poem it was a heron, but you can check the photo for yourself: https://lefthandrob.tumblr.com/post/655522651118403584) hanging out in the pond. Given the morning light and the fullness of the pond from recent rain, this was too good a photo opportunity to pass up. Of course as I crested the hill between myself and the pond I soon realized that there was not 1 but three herons (egrets?) hanging out. And a mother duck with her ducklings going for a swim. And thus the photo linked above was born. And thus this week's poem was inspired as I meditated on how damn peaceful the whole scene was, even though there's construction happening a hundred yards away from this bucolic vista.

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Left Hand Poetry: My Podcast of Poems

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