My apartment complex has a duck pond. My office window faces it. It used to be surrounded by large trees, but the apartment complex cut all those down a few months ago. Initially, I was rather livid. I liked my trees. Apparently, though, they weren't native to the area and had taken over the habitat. I'm told that they're dredging the pond next spring and installing a more natural habitat, whatever that means.
The pond has frozen over, what with the onset of winter and all, and I find I'm finally able to appreciate the lack of trees as I sit at my desk and watch the ducks instead of edit the current manuscript I'm behind schedule on.
Our ducks are rather odd creatures. They never migrate. They're really pretty domestic. I think we're supposed to feed them, because if you begin to walk toward the pond, the flock of ducks (and one goose--not sure where he came from) waddle toward you.
But I find myself entertained as I watch the ducks fly in to land on the iced-over pond. I don't know why a duck sliding three feet on ice is amusing to me, but it is.
And now I sit perplexed as I watch the ducks just sit on the ice. Brr.