Ducks Take a Bath

Thursday, August 23, 630 am

Chickens call across the Village block-by-block and tree to tree. This morning is a rousing symphony conducted once again by hidden leaders. Walking down Bridge Street, one chicken crowed and crowed and kept on crowing. No clouds. Bright sun.

ducks, American River, water, Fair Oaks, Fair Oaks Bridge, morningsA quiet morning. Ducks stand on the boat launch ramp engaged in morning clean up of feathers. One duck takes a bath by splashing itself with water and then shakes itself off. After cleaning up, ducks tuck their head under their wing and take a nap. I watch ducks swimming through the river creating a wake in the still water.

Not a raft or a fishing boat in the water. Twenty runners cross the bridge. I hear the chortle of a Great Blue Heron somewhere hidden near the riverbank.