No, but it seems these two think that statue is their mama. Obviously they get their legs from their father.
When the kids and I went to the park for the first time last week, there was only one bird at the base of the statue. He (or she) was completely still for so long, I originally thought it was two statues, but then it would move its head every so often and look up at the tall bird like it was thinking, "Can we go get some McDonald's now?"
Like any other child on the planet.
So, the kids played for a while, and I made some slow progression on my glove. I actually took a picture, but realized that those few rounds look so pathetic lying in my lap that I cannot even show it to you. No really. Once I am further along. Or have something else to show you. Or you completely forget about it.
However, I am happy to show you some more birds. The niblets were desperate to feed the ducks this time, and I must admit it is almost meditative for me. We like ducks. Many people do--and many tell you that they are filthy birds that foul (ahem) small waters when they stay past any regular migration patterns because they are fed by nurture, not nature, ways.
But geez, how can you not throw breadcrumbs to them? I have done it since I was a kid. It was one of my favourite things to do as a child. It was part of my Sunday ritual with my grandfather: get the Sunday paper at the news shop, go to the elementary school where he worked as a custodian, visit my aunt, then over to the local Stewart's for some day old bread and end at the pond where it seemed hundreds of ducks were. This ended after my teens, and then ended for real when the people who eventually owned the property had the city bar anyone from feeding the ducks cause they were destroying the natural ecosystem of the water.
But, even now, if I head down that street so many years later, there are still ducks there. You know someone's sneaking over before the morning paper is delivered to throw a few handfuls to them.
Not that I would ever do such a thing.