Thursday, April 3, 2014

Morning Calls

We enjoyed a café au lait at the Morning Call in City Park while watching a lady Muscovy Duck stroll between the tables with her head held high. Slowly she meandered by; would she be offered some bread, she didn’t seem concerned. In the doorway she stopped, waited for a musician to plug in his guitar before sashaying past.
Flap, flap, flap big orange male Muscovy feet beat a trail behind her. She ducked out of sight between the columns and potted palms.
The red on his Muscovy head gleamed brightly. He paused by each table. Am I not a spectacular specimen? Will you offer a morsel? His effort was not wasted; I tossed him a crumb. Without looking in my direction he shoveled the food in his mouth and moved on. En route a couple other patrons offered bits of beignets.
The guitar player absentmindedly strummed. In black pants, white jackets and paper hats, waiters produced bread for feathered guests. From out of nowhere the lady Muscovy emerged; her tail wagging furiously as the waiters laid a trail of bread crumbs to the lagoon in case the Muscovies had forgotten the way. Patrons smiled and nodded at each other. A good deed has been done.
Powdered sugar is poured again. The guitar thinks about a few more notes. Two little boys play rock, paper, scissors, as mama sips her coffee. A strand of Spanish Moss floats on the breeze. Waiters hustle to please. This is the life of ease.  What’s wrong with this picture?


   

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