The three of them looked sisterly waddling over, one with a limp, another with a greenish bill, as i was puttering around outside my tent. They came within feet, without hesitation. i immediately remembered the old triscuits that had absorbed so much damp from the air that they were inedible. How i hadn’t found a compost situation for them yet, had just been carrying them around in the car, vaguely in search of somewhere they could rot in peace. They weren’t moldy, just stale and rubbery with moisture. Perfect for ducks.

i fed the mallard ladies slowly, making sure each got her bites. i had plenty of crackers to break up for them, and so i watched them wander off and return again throughout the day. At one point when i thought them long gone, i threw a few crumbs out of the car. They showed up within seconds. If i walked around after i fed them they would follow me for a while. Have you ever had ducks wonder what you’re up to as you squat to pee on a lakeshore? i laughed out loud and made fun of them for being voyeurs. They asked for more snacks.

The three birds were just behind my car, i inside it. All of us were nestled onto our own bottoms, dealing with the wind and sputters of rain in different ways, when a sound i couldn’t hear sent them suddenly flying away. They didn’t go far, landing in the water almost immediately. We were all having the same kind of day, my favorite kind of day: wandering, snacking, visiting, sitting, reacting. Once i went out to meet them as they floated along by, throwing cracker bits directly into the water near each of them in turn.

The two able-bodied birds would pick on the one with the limp, but if they waddled away she would follow eventually. When i realized she would take her time in pursuit, i made sure to save her a crumb or two for when the others were distracted. They came and went with my welcome; i walked to and from them with unexpected ease. All three of them were comfortable within a foot of me. They let me watch them stretch and preen. i admired their shiny blue and teal wing bands, their chunky brown patterning, bright white bottoms, winged eye make up. One of them took an audible shit in front of me, and none were startled by my immediate and raucous laugh.

It occurred to me that the presence of the dog of which i’ve been dreaming would likely preclude a day such as this. These three birds were circulating the campground though, and i was the only one without a canine companion. i wondered if they were able to nap at the other sites. i wonder if they ate out of anyone else’s hands.

Just one of them was this brave. Perhaps a couple hours into our day together, she lowered her head and flattened her neck out to reach for a piece of cracker pinched in my outstretched hand. From then on she was happy to do it again at my suggestion. i watched her comfort increase as the day went on, and caught her waddling right up to my feet more than once, begging. One of her sisters considered taking similarly offered snacks, and kept considering. The limping one was neither of these, which struck me as wise on her part.

These birds live here. This is their lives. Animals are meant to lean and loaf, as Whitman insisted for himself. As i insist now. This is the only career in which i am interested: catering snacks for other animals when they come to my doorstep to remind me not to worry about a thing.