The Happening Place To Be

The duck pond has been in full swing now for a while (not counting the rock that got stuck in one of the pipes, necessitating a complete and inexplicable overhaul of the entire system). Apparently, word has gotten out.

I once counted sixty of these things on the way to the laundry room. The two little ones have matured to the point of looking exactly like the rest of them now. But Stalwart is always distinguishable... they all stare at you when you get too close, but she's the one that makes you want to run in fear.