Since moving to the lake in October, I have had the joy of watching the daily goings on of the abundance of waterfowl that have been making Cook’s Bay their home. No matter the weather, be it subzero temperatures, howling winds, blinding snow or three foot whitecaps, they are out there, braving the elements appearing to be as unconcerned about the conditions as I am about the state of the Toronto Maple Leafs [Toronto’s professional hockey team].
On one particularly nasty day, I looked out the window [the ducks may be brave enough to brave the elements, but I’m not!] and saw a solitary duck bobbing up and down amidst the maelstrom of winter weather. Scanning the lake, I could see none of his friends. This courageous little duck was calmly going about his business, dipping his head underwater searching for fish while all about him appeared to be in total chaos.
Clearly I thought, he knows no fear [I’m describing him as a he, but he could very easily have been a she]. In any event, I imagined myself in a similar situation. Would I have been as calm? Would I have been as fearless? Was this scene meant to be a metaphor? My immediate answer to the first two questions was an unequivocal, not likely. To the third, perhaps! As much as I love the water, I couldn’t see myself experiencing much peace and joy in those conditions, and in that moment, I simply gave thanks that I’m not a duck!
Have an awesomely ducky day!