There are many types of duck, many have said that there are as many types of duck as there are people.
Tonight as I watched the setting sun over the bay, Many ducks frolicked, and some ducks foraged.
This Duck stood watching the light change, He seemed to be standing sentry, and bearing silent witness to the passing of day to night.
He was not troubled by the winds that ruffled his feathers, Nor was he bothered by the yapping dogs being walked near him.Though some of them barked loudly and strained against the leash, He was not moved.
He looked on with more disdain than, One would have thought a duck could command at the elderly woman who kept throwing bits of bread at him, while she muttered to herself and smoked a cigarette.
He was a duck of a certain weight,
He seemed to watch me with some curiosity, as I sat on the ground with my back resting against the bench, instead of sitting on it.
We were not the only ones watching the sunset, I had brought someone with me, and there were other people and a good number of ducks.
But it was as if only the two of us were the only ones who were really watching.
People around me said how pretty and captured the scene with their iPhones, and used the setting sun as a backdrop for selfies.
Once the sun had set and the people drifted off in twos and threes, scattering the flock of lesser ducks, Only then did the duck turn and leave.
But before he left he seemed to stare at me for some time, as if taking my measure.
It may be my ego, and I have no idea the standards by wich ducks judge people.
But he seemed pleased with me in some way.