cooliceblue
Baby ducks in Central London
Stop. Read that title again. Baby ducks darling… baby ducks, we are not even saying ducklings. And Central London, this isn’t Enfield, Surbiton, or Croydon, not Epping Forest not Richmond Park; this is slap, bang, kazaam, zone one. There’s your classic city businessman, all kitted up in the smart suit and well polished, shiny, brogues, and there’s your storybook mama duck with her brood all in a row, and this is London, so they’re all far too busy to stop.
Stop right now, and look at this. Life is zooming by, frantic, stressful. The demarcation between work, family and friends has blurred for a generation of internet addicts, and obviously ducks have problems too, would you want to navigate city streets with eight infants? There were folks here before the Romans came and called it Londinium, people built houses by the river and went about their busy daily lives; ducks doubtlessly did much the same thing too.
The businessman won’t stop, the mama duck won’t stop, Malcolm stopped because, well, baby ducks in central London, it’s something you don’t see every day.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, Rachel Irving and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
