On a tire sized rock carefully half buried into the park's clay soil sits a little girl with a cracker in her hand. A few feet down the slope sits a sleepy duck, its bill turned into its wing, resting in the partial shade falling on the concrete berm that encircles the upper pond. Two ducks swim left. One duck swims right. On a rock carefully perched on an underwater rise in the middle of the pond sits a turtle facing south, sunning himself.
The little girl takes a bite of her cracker. The duck ruffles his other wing then settles back down. The shadows shift a little as the the branches of the italian stone pine move in the breeze. Seven ducklings stick together near the far shore.
A boy with long hair and his caretaker come up the hill. He comes right up to the edge of the pond and stares at the ducks. He picks at a stand of tall grass and tosses a small piece at a passing duck. The caretaker quietly admonishes him. He turns away and stares again at the pond for a moment, then they move on.
Yesterday's run destination: Cox Paint
Yesterday's menu:
breakfast: Santa Monica Donuts' old fashion was far superior to its jelly filled
lunch: cold pizza
dinner: Kaido's tempura/teriyaki dinner special
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