The ducks. Are back. It must be spring.
This year I am particularly under their spell. I get all eager ethologist on them at first sight. Tumbling out of my car with sweet words and a camera.
The ducks, on the other hand, are not quite so enamored of me.
Here's how our process works.
1. oblivion (I maintain my ninja-like stealth for exactly one frame):
This year I am particularly under their spell. I get all eager ethologist on them at first sight. Tumbling out of my car with sweet words and a camera.
The ducks, on the other hand, are not quite so enamored of me.
Here's how our process works.
1. oblivion (I maintain my ninja-like stealth for exactly one frame):
2. concern. (I've been spotted. Now the duck is wondering: What is that shiny contraption I'm holding. Why is it whirring and clicking, extending and retracting. What on earth could I be up to?):
3. self-conscious aloofness (They are trying to trick me here. Figuring that if they are boring enough or restless enough I won't be able to take their pictures, so I will skulk away):
4. finally, adieu (But, I am no skulker. Take that, du--- Hey, wait! Where are you going?):
They are so over me.
(Maybe next time I should bring breadcrumbs too.)
(Maybe next time I should bring breadcrumbs too.)
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