I went to look, instead, at the carp in the pool, and one mallard roused herself enough to join me on the fence.
|"You know, I think I could manage to eat a crumb or two."|
I gave her a handful of seeds and she nibbled them gently out of my palm.
In a second group of dozing mallards, one female stood at the edge, complaining. "Wit, wit, wit, wit ..." she kept saying. Not a quack or a squawk, just "Wit, wit, wit ..." over and over and over. I think that's mallard for "Too hot, too hot ..." She was right, too.
(They'll have been happy today; it rained. All day. Just like old times!)