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I stumbled over this small piece of reading in a favorite literary journal on Sunday when I was over my head in horrid news. So thought to share:

Ducks

When I get tired of reading the news - a man dies of a heart attack trying to make love to a blow-up doll; a skirmish in a city with a name like a flower, Fallujah; a new way of torturing people with leashes and harness-I come down to the pond and watch ducks quacking and dunking. The orange legs of mallards stick up in the air. They waddle onto shore, waggling their tails and gulping down wads of bread; they trail loops of pondweed from their bills; their green necks shine.

Best to all my friends here at Blip!