12.9.09

What is a group of ducks called?

Like a kid in a candy store, I kissed my guys goodnight and headed out for a much anticipated girls' night at a friend's. I turned the key, clicked my seat belt, pulled the gear shift to R, opened the window above to bask in the moonlight and began my drive down the road that seemed to lead everywhere.  I could drive this familiar road blindfolded, winding with its ease as I go.  The cool autumn air settled in from the moon roof as my freshly brushed hair waved to the sky. This would be a good night.
Realizing the backseat was vacant, aka-silent,  I clicked on the radio. Looking ahead, I was perplexed to see headlights stalled in formation and at a standstill coming up on my left. No sirens, no flashing red or blue lights. Yet, something about the dusk's glow caused me caution as my foot pressed ever so gently and my car slowed down to a crawl.  I peered out my window to see the roadblock. DUCKS. Right there in the middle of take-me-anywhere -thoroughfare a badelynge of ducks clogged traffic waiting for them to waddle across several lanes. They have wings, don't they know? Continuing my drive forward, I chuckled aloud as I thought to myself, "What is the value of a duck?" My shoulders shrugged, but I did think that the armadillo, raccoon and squirrel wouldn't have fared so well as a roadblock. What do I value? Of course, I stopped for those ducks-and I'd like to think I'd do my best to sacrifice a hawk's next meal and stop for the raccoon, too. But I had to really think about what my life manifests as   worthy to me. I'll stop in the middle of a road for a few ducks; what else do I show I value?

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