“Bye love, have a great day, love you,” and with a kiss, he’s off. It’s not unusual for him to return at least once for a forgotten item, after one minute or ten. So when I hear the garage door vibrating, followed by him coming in the door, I barely look up.

“I have to see what my ducks are doing,” he says. This is new, even for him.

He goes to the window and finds the ducks are in the neighbor’s yard. “They’re after that corn,” he says, hurrying to the cupboard to snatch some bread.

“Don’t feed them!” I say, “They’re filthy.”

He smiles, “Oh, they’re gone soon, come on.” He’s already out the door, so I go to the window to watch, unwilling to actually join him.

He stands in the hot sun, tearing chunks of bread and throwing them to the ducks, who by now have abandoned the corn and gathered in front of him. He’s laughing and talking to them.

“Hey dude, it hit you right in the head.”

I think about the difference between us. He’s on his way to work, but sees some ducks taking a shortcut through our yard, so he stops for one last bite of joy. I know it won’t be the last time he does that today.

I’m still in my pajamas inside, not yet ready to plunge into the sunshine.

He comes inside, and I laugh at him.

“Ducks really are very beautiful up close,” he explains un-self-consciously. “They have blue feathers, their eyes sparkle…they’re supermodels!”

With that, he’s off.