Glad I’m Not a Duck

365.32 not a duck

On Tuesday of this week, I brilliantly took the train to work to avoid driving in a snowy mess. It was a brilliant idea on the way out, less brilliant on the way back when the train was delayed over an hour leaving me sitting outside wondering when said train would show up. (I tried to take the 4:47 train. I ended up taking the 4:12… at 5:45). Anyways, on the walk to the train, before it ruined everything by being late, I was commending myself on the carless commute and noticing that I wasn’t as anxious, tired and generally annoyed as I usually am in traffic, even though I was walking in ankle deep snow the mile to the train. I was also commending myself for remembering to bring my camera and took my photo of the day not in my house at 10 pm as usual, searching for something mildly interesting, but rather outside. These are the ducks that are sitting in the Charles River in the middle of a snowstorm. And after sitting on the platform for more than an hour, I can honestly say I’m glad I’m not a duck. While there are some great things, I’m sure, about being a duck, I’ve identified some pretty important reasons why being a duck is not for me.

1. Ducks are fatty. And while it serves them well, I think I’d be rather self conscious if I had enough fat in me that I floated in water without trying.
2. I’m not 100% sure what ducks eat. I am, however, sure from my walks along the Charles that when it’s not stale leftover bread that some kid is chucking at me, it’s obtained by diving to the bottom of the river. The top of the Charles is gross, I don’t want to even think about the bottom.
3. Boy ducks get the cool green heads. Girl ducks get… brown. While it serves an important function of not getting them eaten when they’re waiting for baby ducks to be born, I’m much happier that we human ladies get the bling.
4. This goes for all birds that float on rivers on sub-freezing days, but I don’t like being wet even on warm days. I’m pretty sure if the best place I could find to be was in water next to ice, I’d be a pretty unhappy duck.
5. I’ve seen ducks with bum legs and even heard tell of a duck that co-workers watched get pulled under by a snapping turtle. This is nature, but is uncool. Also, another reason not to swim in the Charles.

I’m sure there are perks like ducklings which are admittedly adorable, and you can fly and you get to be outside all day on beautiful days, but I’m pretty sure that would not make up for the 5 items above.

All this is to distract you from the lack of knitting news. It’s been all consuming to shovel, get to and from work, etc. Also I’ve reached the armpits and have to make a decision and I just can’t muster the motivation for that until tomorrow.


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