We've called it that for as long as we've lived here.
Last week we were reminded why.
"Dat was a nightmare!" said Noah of the dozens of ducks that eagerly waddled toward us when we arrived with a loaf of bread. They jumped and flapped and hopped and stretched and even nipped at us. We ran away as quick as we could, but not entirely without harm.
We were all terrified. Noah climbed up into my arms, Leah backed into a metal tree stake, and Emma was the brave shrieking banshee that tried to drive them all back into the water.
But Noah wanted to go get them with his big muscles!
Crazy ducks indeed.
That will be the last time we bring them any bread.
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