This morning, I took my sad but not fully broken camera out and ruthlessly exploited a little girl in my neighborhood — and I have photographic proof.
I rushed down to the river bank and found that my ducklings were out and about — at least, one batch of them, with Momma and Poppa in close attendance. (There’s another group of three that are a little older.) There also was the young lady in question. I immediately handed her the bread I had brought to feed the ducks (personal note: I hate the smell and taste of rye bread.) Then, with her handling the feeding of the ducks, I could use both hands on my camera (with the busted LCD screen and crappy quality) and move around the shore to get the best pictures I could.
Those are the best five, suitably cropped and tweaked.
I really like my neighborhood.
