Mother Mallard and her baby ducks foraged along the shoreline of Sparrow Lake at day’s end. As she waddled past the dock, her little ducklings fell in line, like wind-up toys trying to catch up. All except one little fellow, who lost in his own world got left behind.
He let out a high-pitched, frantic cry as anxiety set in. Zigzagging, he scurried about, ending up on the dock, where he spotted Mom and siblings down below.
“What will he do now?” I wondered.
Without a thought, he jumped down, landed awkwardly, but with Mom coming his aid, was soon righted and happily rejoined his flock.
The wind picked up, blowing in cool air, and the little ones cuddled together while Mom protectively offered shelter.
Ducks are the best!
Here’s my attempt to paint the little straggler:
(Ragtag’s daily prompt is duck.)