Duck Lake looking like a snack

Set before dusk on the 22nd.

Birds are such spectacular creations. Their symphonies carry far, even on wing. Covered head to the leg in pinions, the likes of which produce color and pattern most vivid and outlandish. They fly and hover and veer with such grace in the air. A feat incomprehensible to earthbound occupants. But for all their finesse in the atmosphere above, they lose that grace. Often.

He breaks free of his cover with gaping jaws, hurtling tides and ripples all across the pool. Most of the lake's tenants take to the air instantly with a panicked sound, beating their wings with zeal. Except for one.

A male Merganser is secured by the neck, dangling from his mouth. Natjuk hurriedly flees to the popples that kiss the lake. Joining with the aspen shroud from the ducks' collective focus, the loner begins his meal in sequestered peace.