I keep thinking about this time I saw a duck get run over on Pratt Street. I was walking home from work, a couple of blocks from the harbor, and I saw two ducks walking on the sidewalk, on the side of the street that is opposite the water. I have bad vision, so I wasn’t sure if they were ducks until I got very close to them. I smiled because it just looked so out of place. Just as I got about ten feet from them, one of the ducks jumped out into the street just as traffic was going by. A cab ran over it, and feathers were everywhere. The other duck went nuts, and tried to run into the street after the other one. The duck was still moving, trying to lift its head off the street. I chased it toward the Legg Mason building so that it wouldn’t get hit too. Then I felt bad. Ducks mate for life don’t they? It was just disturbing and romantic at the same time.
