Six little ducklings, happy to be alive!


The original six!

The river claimed one and then there were five.

Down to five.

Down to five.

Five little ducklings, spreading their tiny wings to soar. The river claimed another one and then there were four.

Four little ducklings, oh goodness what do I see? Not four ducklings, but, sadly, only three.

The lucky three!

The lucky three!

Angie’s brood has shrunk down in size but not feistiness. They get into the thick of things with the adults, pulling feathers like pros. Why not? Their mom is Angie, coolest hen on the river.


Angie, kids, and bread.

It wouldn’t be summer without duck tales. Blessed be. :}


About tinthia

Wondering, searching, and wandering, I'm an earth witch with a desire to get it right in my lifetime. The flow of the river feeds my inner goddess and fuels my soul. Blessed be. :}
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