Walking out of a chinese restaurant last night with a bag of takeout in my hand:
There's a mallard duck standing in front of me on the sidewalk.
"What are you doing here?"
We're about half a mile from the campus creek, as the duck flies. In the downtown shops and restaurants of this little college town, one of us looks out of place. He waddles up to face me, about a foot away. He's looking at my takeout bag.
"Sorry. There's nothing in there for you."
He wiggles his tail feathers.
"Just between you and me, hanging out in front of a chinese restaurant may not be the best plan of action for you. I just read the menu. You're on it."
The duck noses my bag.
It's springtime in Davis.
Shawn, Luke, and I stepped out of the car from our Easter travels and straight into the garden. How appropriate for springtime to arrive on Easter day. I wandered the front yard with a cup of tea, where the California poppies we're throwing a party. We opened all the windows. I've had jasmine and lavender plaited into my hair since we got home and Shawn put a vase of fresh garden roses on my nightstand. Screw the equinox calendar; today it's spring.
Easter was mellow and enjoyable. We did our big family dinner on Saturday night and trickled home on Sunday with enough time to sort out the laundry and enjoy some daylight. Luke scored a few dozen plastic eggs and ripped off the bunny ears that I put on his head faster than a Davis duck finds a free handout. We spent Easter night eating mushu pork on the couch watching Raiders of the Lost Ark. The duck wasn't invited.
My fortune cookie informs me that there are many parties and gatherings in my future.