The Buddha and the duck
The Buddha and the Duck A black crow is pecking at the pear tree. Oily winged it tears by to the gate post. Good – I think to myself. Time you left. A horse in the distance is chewing on grass and it’s swinging its tail and chasing flies away. I have built my nest by the dam and swim amongst the reeds and my favourite thing is sitting under the pear tree in MY spot. I am a wild duck. I like to sit under the branches of the pear tree but a branch above is worrying me. Each morning I hear it making a noise that says ‘You’ll have to find another place to sit’. The pear tree is talking to me and I must listen to what it says. I will leave my spot. I will not be happy to sit under the branch of the pear tree again until the branch falls, until it’s safe to return. Days and nights pass. My life has changed. I sit and watch until my eggs begin to hatch. The first shell cracks, then the next and the next… Wet wings unfurl, my ducklings scramble out of their shells and walk on shaky legs. So MA...