It might be prudent to elaborate on the ducks, so that I will do. See, for a while two ducks would land off-and-on in our pool and swim around a bit. We would always chase them away so as to avoid duck dropping and the mess that they entail. So one day, my dad found the remains of a duck, presumed eaten by coyotes. Shortly after this the other duck disappeared into the bushes. A few days later, presto! Ten new baby ducklings crawled out.
These little cuties swam around the pool all day, taking time out to walk around on the deck, following their mother’s lead. Of course, this sightseeing required the physical act of getting out of the pool, and thus the phenomenon of a few bent beaks and many damaged ducky egos as the poor creatures continually banged against the walls of the pool as they attempted to jump out. They did eventually make it though, and had fun wandering through the bushes and quacking at me and hiding behind their mother when I came too close.
So anyway, four days ago all eleven of them disappeared, which is odd since I don’t think that ducks can learn to fly that quickly, and they certainly weren’t any good at scaling hills on foot. I can assume either that they were somehow all eaten, that they are in hibernation in our bushes, or perhaps they all climbed on momma’s back and took a plane ride. Perhaps there is some deep significance to the ducks, but it will be left as an exercise to the reader. Anyway, I keep a lookout for them, just in case they choose to return.