It was around 3:30 pm on a beautiful sunny day. I was driving down Route 7 on autopilot. Thinking those random thoughts that one thinks when you drive alone for a while. Then, while stuck at a light, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a mother duck and her six ducklings on the side of the road. I turned my head to investigate. There they were, cuddled in a half-circle on the dirt, just like toddlers during storytime. It appeared that mother was quacking a warning, “Ok children – Before we cross ….” ; but their eyes were dreamingly fixated on the wondrously lush and large pond that laid on the other side of the road. Then in a split second, the mother started across the street. Her brood obediently following.
Now, if you know Route 7, then you know that it has four lanes and tends to be very very busy. But that did not seem to deter there gaze, or her determination. They were half way across the road when the light turned green. I remained, waiting for them to safely get across. However, the black sleek sedan behind began to honk incessantly – apparently ignorant of what is happening in front of us. Redness filled my cheeks, I felt a shudder, it was instinct. Hurry, hurry, I mumbled under my breadth. In reality, what could I do? I just sat there, watching.
Now, if you know ducklings, then you know there is always that one straggler that mother almost always has to go back for — as it often refuses to follow directions; even when mother has that “ok, children – before we cross the road” talk. It was always that one lone tiny runt duckling, scared, veering off from the rest going back to the side of the road from whence he came. Ok, now what do I do. I quickly glanced in my rear view mirror, and gasped at the stampede of cars that were now racing towards me. Not to mention the continued growing impatience of the black sedan that has been continuously honking his horn, now playing rythemtically all on its own. Panic begins to set in. Not because of the honking, or the stampede of cars approaching, but because I did not know what to do. You know that feeling; that you should do something, but don’t know what – helpless. That was the feeling that I had at this particular moment. A life was in danger, but instead of acting on it, I dwelled on it. Will someone else step up to the plate?
The mother duckling hurredly came back across the road, to regain her last little one that was huddled down on the side of the road. After a little coaxing and lot of reassurance, both set off immediately to rejoin the others who were now in the pond across the way. Once again, I find myself mumbling, hurry, hurry, hurry. Then suddenly, when they were about three quarters of the way, the honking behind me stops. Abruptly the black sedan swerves around me. My worst fear was upon me; all of my anger toward the human race flooded to the top. But wait, the black sedan stopped in the middle of the road, placed his car in front of the ducklings, stopping the stampede and allowing the ducklings safe passage.
Serves me right. Whent home humbled.