Sunday, October 22, 2017

Duck, Duck, Duck....

Randomly I was in the middle of nowhere Baltimore earlier in the year. Not even the city proper just in what would best be described as the middling suburbs of Baltimore, Maryland. Away from the ports and the ships and the sea.  I wasn't happy about it and I really wanted to get away from it and get back home again.

There was nothing around the hotel, making my isolation feel even more complete. I could get around by asking for a shuttle and I spent way to much money at a Chili's to get some food and drink before heading back to the very lonely hotel in the middle of nowhere.

Not much to write about. I do the job and decide I want to go home. I get back to the hotel and ask for a shuttle the airport, which the hotel happily provides. The driver is a jolly, plump man how is happy to take me where I am going.

He wants to chat and I'm doing my best to listen, though I'm feeling fully self absorbed in my burning desire to get away and to get back to Chicago, and to get back to my bed, and small dogs, and the infinite quiet that is home.

As we prepare to exit the parking lot a duck crosses our path.

The driver sees the duck and without asking slowly stops the car. I'm in favor of not running over ducks so I don't mind so much.

"Well, I gotta go check on my ducks."

I register this, I hear him say this. I wonder what it means to check on ones ducks, waiting in the back seat for the shuttle to accelerate.

Is this like getting one's ducks in a row?

It is ducking out?

Is it an elaborate metaphor, extended off the presence of small ducks crossing the road? Thinking about ducks, how they grow and change, perhaps and ugly duckling with the potential to be a swan. Perhaps he is pondering the internal mystery that is the cycle of life, represented by a duck crossing the road to get to the other side, to continue on some journey of its on making: live, eat, procreate, die, continue, repeat...

Then the door opens.

The man gets out and goes to check on his ducks.

The amusement breaks me out of my self serving reverie and I smile all the way to the airport.

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