The sun was beginning to sink over the western hillside. The clouds were lit up like fire canvasing the hills. There was a slight breeze coming from the northwest creating a slight rustling effect through the semi-dried weeds. As I came across the horizon of the pond, I saw ducks awaiting the feed they have become accustomed to getting. The moment I stepped out from behind the lone pine tree that grows on the east side of the pond, five unfamiliar ducks were frightened and ascended to the air.
Maverick, our border collie, was ripe with excitement as he hustled to the banks of the pond to kick up frogs.
I curled around the pond and called, “Here duck!” They began waddling to the feeder where I poured corn mash from a bucket. For the next thirty minutes, it was a feeding frenzy among the six ducks and two drakes.
As I sat smoking my corn-cob pipe filled withPrince Albert, I was entertained not only by the feeding but by they many flyovers the other estranged ducks made trying to figure out if the pond was safe in my presence.
I could here the air move as they flew over my head towards the west, then the north, then the south, back west then towards the east. With each flyover, I was astounded by such beauty of God’s creation. They finally made touchdown twenty feet away from me and slowly crept my way.
I watched as they settled five feet in the water from where I sat. I watched the other ducks enjoy their evening meal. I watched as Maverick kicked up frogs from every bank side he could manage. I watched as s spider meticulously weaved its webbing in the weeds just to my left and how it moved so gracefully among its web. I watched as the silver-bellies flipped in the pond water. I watched at the sun set ever so slightly.
I watched God!