Nice weather for ducks

Ducks are funny things. They have got a funny floaty bottom pointing up in the air when they feel like having a face bath and make funny sounds, an irritating mix of the voice of Celine Dion when she is ill and an old klaxon. I love watching ducks paddling, on the surface they look calm as ever but underneath their little orange feet paddle away desperately. Oh and I love their wiggly bottom, it makes them look like an old Italian mama when they walk from one pond to another. Now that I speak of it, I myself wiggle my bottom quite a lot, lost a few neighbours after singing Celine Dion a little bit too loudly and always smile while paddling fiercely underneath. Perhaps ducks and I have got more in common than I thought, perhaps there is much to learn from funny ducks.

Hunters and Pools

As soon as I slip my socks in my wellies, all my childish naughtiness resurfaces. I start walking like a hippopotamus in Pom Pom Pom loud melody, I look for pools to jump into and muddy paths to walk on. Yes, this morning, I couldn’t have slipped my socks in anything other than wellies. Even if everyone is wearing girly shoes. Even if it is sunny. Even if I haven’t got anything else to do than picking up strawberries at the local market. I wanted to wear my wellies today. Full stop. I wanted to remember the runs on wintery beaches of Ile de Re, the picking of mushrooms in the autumn forest and the fishing duties of early July. I wanted to be a kid again and that’s a perfect reason to wear my wellies today.