Out for a Duck

After all, the ducks were there first.

They are an integral part and common sight in the city park congregating around the very green, rancid looking lake and frequently found venturing out beyond the park bounds into house gardens and daring to attempt to cross path and busy routes causing panic and mayhem amongst drivers and commuters.

I felt, at 6am, like an intruder as I pedalled around the circuitous road within the greenspace. It had been an impromptu decision on my part to get a bit of exercise. If there had been the faintest indication of wind or precipitation it would have been very easy to hit the snooze button on the alarm and resume my fitful dream of getting up and going out on my bike for a bit of exercise.

The early morning was in fact beautiful. Calm, bright, no breeze to speak of and, for an inner city location, remarkably quiet.

I was a bit sleepy as I collected together my cycling gear but felt excited about the prospect of a rare ride out.

My workload usually confined my two wheel activities to a saturday (with sunday for essential recovery from exertions) or an infrequent afternoon during the midweek if I could manipulate my diary and so this dawn adventure was a bonus.

I edged out of the estate road and made for the entrance to the park which is, conveniently, just around the first corner from my house. The first sensation of cool air on my legs woke me up nicely and I soon found myself in a good pedalling rhythm in an easy low gear.

The road around the park is well worn, even for its non-through road status and I had to dodge the usual deep and abraded potholes but with no oncoming traffic this could be achieved by swerving across to the opposite carriageway.

Although quite early there was already a steady flow of joggers of various shapes, sizes and stages of fitness. I had seen them regularly over a period of months and their progress had been slow but sure. A large black dog running free meant that its owner was out for his usual run. The sight of such a large dark hound could be startling to a first time observer but to me it was quite comforting.

There are two hazardous sections on the 0.7 mile lap of the park.

The first is a left hand bend just past the bowling green which hugs the dense hedge line. Unsighted there can be an oncoming pedestrian to avoid but on this morning it was a succession of private hire cars which cut the corner on their way to pick up a fare.

The second is the unpredictable activity of those resident ducks.

On more than one of my laps they attempted to fly through the spokes of my wheels only just pulling up in time and disappearing into the lower boughs of the park trees.

It was thereafter a pitch battle between me and the ducks.

I had strayed onto their territory and was now paying the price.

My determination to complete at least 20 laps before breakfast was at odds with their own intentions of maintaining control of their patch.

They took to waddling across my path with a very well practiced innocent look about them.

Individually they are manageable but in a combined group there is a certain amount of intimidation. I thought that on a later lap the dry tarmac of the road looked suspiciously soiled and slippery.

As for the noise, their incessant, agitated quacking was actually drowning out the usually all dominating sound of traffic.

I decided to call it a day and head back to the house. As though wallowing in a moral victory there were two of them waiting for me on the entrance to the estate. As I passed them I was sure they grinned as only a duck can.