Our Lady of Perpetual Astonishment

if one mood might be blamed on a coworker’s backhand, the next could easily be the fault of ducklings. each a handful only of dandelion-colored puff streaked in shades of fading brown, all of it sticking out in all directions to catch in the sunlight, so many miniature mad scientists milling about a pristine surface, all reaching for snacks mouth-first. the grown female leading this parade of purity squawks consistently, not constantly. she even takes the time to dip, ploop, head down tail up, white rump exposed to the whole neighborhood, to grab her own vittles from the well of manna on which her charges float. for each call she makes, a few coke spoon-sized bills open in response, sending forth weirdly deep, yet peeps, of pubescent change. one minute meanderer, brave or unknowing, strays a little further, chasing bugs across the silken prairie of pond beyond the dozen feet of radius around their leader to which the other buoyant fuzzballs seem to adhere. the abiding calm of the surface on which these fowls float is only mildly and infrequently disturbed by the propellers of a duckling’s full speed, usually when it finds itself further from its family than expected. this invariably provokes a couple siblings to rev up as well, for maybe no cause but fun, their tiny webbed orange paddles sprinting along the surface, fluffing up the water around them and leaving wakes only a mouse might ride. steadily around the glaze too are fish jumping toward flying treats just at the upper plane of their existence, rippling not quite close enough to collide with any of the duckling’s disturbances, all soft across the grey green reflections of mountain. swooping swinging dropping bow and arrow silhouettes of swallows toward the buzzing bug feast they share with the fish, the line neither species can breach favored by the suicidal spirit of insects. around the pond, up the mountains, for miles all that’s visible widely are shades of aspen and evergreen and stone. several and uncountable stands of pale, narrow trunks, their heights a yellow-green you thought only crayons could be, narrow leaves a cloud of color from this distance, the way you imagine Holi. a nearby stand of evergreen that must be absolutely enormous, their branches so easily visible, taller than the aspen with broad, red-caramel stalks supporting layers of thick, horizontal limbs covered in blankets of deep, rich emerald. royalty. between these two arboreal marvels, dark rock crumbles in all shapes, piecemeal stumbling at invisible speeds, dawdling precariously, the demand of gravity nearly ineffectual. the pattern unfathomable. all of this under a broad, blue sky complemented by only the most casual of passing clouds. ultimately, gratefully: this scene is a whole mood.