Evening Quiet

One night this week I took a walk with my dog in the moonlight. Heading down the hill, the three-quarter moon framed by the trees bordering the road shone ahead through the clouds in the east. There is nothing like the moon and the clouds as the clouds alternately veil and reveal the moon. Beautiful, mystical, haunting. I strolled down the road enjoying the moon and clouds, the warm fall evening, the quiet and peace. My moon shadow and Romeo’s accompanied us back up the hill.

I had another evening like this the earlier in the week. After dropping my daughter off at her dance classes in Lewisburg, I drove to the library to pass the two hours, but didn’t feel like facing the large space and florescent lights; I felt like something quieter, more solitary, natural. So I went to the park on Fairground Road and sat in my car in the twilight watching the mallards and other ducks who live there and listening to quiet jazz on the public radio station. I just sat and observed the ducks waddling back and forth, quacking at one another, flying to and from the creek, wading in the rain puddles in the parking lot.

I was amused to see the ducks walk among the flock, quacking at one another. Were they greeting friends, scolding foes, remarking on the events of the day? Do ducks have duck friends? Do they spend their time with the same ducks all the time or just randomly group and regroup in the flock? One duck stood and groomed himself, running his smooth orange bill over and over his smooth gray chest, rubbing his smooth green head over and over his smooth brown back. He looked well-groomed to me but apparently he didn’t think so as he did this repeatedly. I've never taken time to watch a duck at his grooming ritual before.

I took a walk around the little park, noticing how the ponds and stream shone in the twilight reflecting the trees and evening clouds. Perhaps the reflection was how the heron who flew in spotted the place he would spend this night.

Gradually the ducks slowed down for the night as the light faded. One and then another would settle to the ground, and though it was hard to see distinctly in the light, some appeared to turn their heads over their backs and tuck them under their wings. Occasionally a few late evening ducks would saunter into a group of settled ducks, quacking and disturbing them so some of them too would stand up and join in. Eventually they all settled down again and grew quiet.

What a peaceful, refreshing way to spend the evening, being with the ducks as the day came to an end.