Yesterday, Iris and I took a walk down and down the hills into the valley of our town. She carried a little bag full of bread to feed the ducks who live on the river Kyll. Now that it's quite cold here, it's rare to see the ducks swimming about. They remain in their sheltered homes on the bank... until you stand on the bridge for any amount of time. With the expectation of being fed, small groups of ducks soar over from the nearby trees and congregate in an excited flock of about two dozen. They get rather aggressive with each other, and the bolder ones will even fly up towards the railing of the bridge, in hopes of catching bread before the others have a chance.
Iris is absolutely taken with the feathered creatures. We spent a good twenty minutes tossing bread to the birds, our fingers red and growing numb. Iris quacked at them and giggled at their splashing and scrambling for each piece of bread. Afterward, we walked further down the road to the market, and bought some things for dinner and a little piece of chocolate to sweeten the chill outside.
|One of the hills down into town, towards the river.|
|The river Kyll. The ducks live just past the little waterfall.|
|Here they come!|
|Enjoying feeding the ducks.|
|Two dozen ducks.|