Hello everyone! I was attacked by a vicious duck while getting photos for the previous post, ‘The Screwtape Letters, Part 1.’
I put my life on the line for ya’ll!
Actually, I just went to my favorite childhood park. There’s a beautiful pond there, green spaces and an old wooden playground area. And usually, there are cute little ducks. I expected to just get some nice peaceful pictures.
I should mention, however, that I have a history with the ducks at this park – a bone to pick, you could say. At a birthday party at the park, one of the ducks bit me on the finger! I was little, so it really scared me -and it hurt! Apparently ducks don’t like to be petted.
However, I learned my lesson. That was years ago. I didn’t think I had a duckphobia – but this recent attack has me wondering… maybe, as my brother said, ducks can sense fear?
Anyway, I got to the park and almost right away saw a group of ducks by the baseball fields. They were bigger than the ducks I usually see there. They let me get real close, so I took several photos. I thought one black and white duck, in particular, was very pretty:
They seemed so peaceful… even this big guy…
At the time, anyway, he seemed peaceful. In hindsight, I realize I should have known…
I started walking toward the duck pond, where most of the cute little ducks were, and the big ducks starting going ahead of me up the hill.
We migrated to the top of the hill, until I had almost reached the crest, at the shore of the pond. That’s when Big Red and his friend went into action.
They started coming at me, slowly but surely, trying to herd me off, I thought, from the other ducks. They were so big already, and their feathers got all puffed up – in fact, the closer they got, the scarier they became. I started getting the idea that they weren’t coming over to pose for a picture, and I backed off. They followed. I stepped back again. They came at me.
Eventually, I was followed along the hill, almost all the way to the picnic benches, which were quite away from the other ducks. All the way, Big Red followed me (his friend lost interest) huffing like he had asthma – I think it was his way of threatening me – not entirely sure though! Meanwhile, I realized, hey, at least I was getting what I wanted – a duck close enough to take pictures of it. All the way down the shore of the pond, I walked backwards, taking pictures of Big Red. This didn’t improve his mood, needless to say.
Isn’t he scary?!!!
All this time, the park is practically deserted. I was starting to realize why… However, I was starting to worry, the way I do sometimes. What if this duck mauled me? What if he decided to fly into my face and I couldn’t run fast enough to get away from him? Nobody was there to drive me to a hospital! On the other hand, I was glad to be alone. I’m sure people would have laughed at me, as I walked backwards along the pond, taking photos of a literally red faced, angry duck.
Finally, I thought I was far enough away that I thought, surely he’ll be fine if I stand right here. There was a rainbow in the pond’s fountain, and I risked my life to capture a photo of it for posterity:
Big Red didn’t want to share his friends. He didn’t want to share the pond. Or the rainbow.
He started tugging on my jeans, biting them, pulling on them.
And so I made my exit, no longer nonchalant. I retreated down the hill of defeat, as the victor stood at the top, triumphant. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my near death experience. Some neighborly advice: don’t take your children to that park.
After I had hung out at the bottom of the hill for a while, biding my time, Big Red moved to the other side of the pond. I stealthily worked my way around the pond, till I reached the flock of small, sane ducks who did not have rabid gleams in their eye. So I still got my duck photos after all:
Never again, ducks. Never again.