this evening we got a call from toni-ann. Theres a baby duck! it was in my house and now it might be under the deck, do you want to come rescue a baby duck? yes, of course. another recruit. me and james hop right to it. i guess we're the go-to people in edison for all your animal rescue needs.
we go running down the street, across town, around the flutter inn and along the slough we walk with a salmon net in hand, trying to track the little bugger down. more elusive than you think, that baby duck is; we can't seem to find it under any porch or bush. every cat seems suspect, i eye them suspiciously. every dark corner is a hiding spot, a possibility. we ask john and mike, have you seen the baby duckling? they point. there it is, james says, and i see it: the tiniest of things, brown like the mud, tearing ass down the middle of the slough. we follow it closely with our eyes, but soon lose track of it under a dock.
after waiting a few minutes for it to reappear, we give up, decide to go home, to let nature take its course. will the baby duck die without our intervention? maybe. we'll never know. sometimes it's hard to make that call, but really, nature does what she wants around here where she's left to be herself. yes, she'll do what she wants, with that duckling and with us too. sometimes it's the miracle of life she gives us, and sometimes its the hard lesson of death. one thing i've learned is that i have very little control. and it's all a miracle, every bit of it. it's all beautiful, really, it's just a matter of how you look at it.