“
Around me
umpteen birds are singing umpteen marvelous melodies, whistles and warbles and chirps and
quavers cutting pitches high then sweep-swooping low, the pulchritudinous swimming pool sized
pond glimmering picturesque in the lazy and hazy early afternoon sun. An attractive well-groomed
mother duck- followed in a flawless and disciplined line by its ducklings like fluffy automatons -
plies her trade alongside a young and jubilant hominid couple who, satisfactorily fulfilled to have
settled and copulated once and to never again except on birthdays or anniversaries be carnal, play
with their progeniture with proficiently prepared picnics loaded with an overkill of mother's home
made tarts and buns and baskets of ham and cheese sandwiches; it was all sensationally Disney and
dizzying and droll and not at all what this trip desired.
”
”