The Quacker Factory

A few months ago we expanded our wanderings to the world on the other side of San Jose Boulevard. First we went under the road where it crosses Goodby's Creek. Soon, however, we discovered that even at the busiest times of the morning rush, there are occasional huge gaps in the traffic in both directions at the same time.

One of the most intriguing places we tour over there is the Beauclerc Bay apartment complex. It fronts on the creek, so I imagine it was a prestigious address (for an apartment complex) at one time, probably many decades ago. Now it is dilapidated, and the parts that are still structurally sound enough are home to low income people of all stripes. There are a few dogs there, and many cats of questionable domesticity. But the primary residents are ducks. All along the creek one will always find a plethora of ducks, but the rest of the complex is lousy with them as well. We never know where we might surprise a mama duck off of her nest of eggs. Ducklings ranging from newly hatched to nearly full grown follow their mamas across parking lots, through courtyards or into the water to escape the threat of our zealous bassador. I even watched a duck nonchalantly climb an outside staircase once - a jaw-dropping experience I'll never forget.

Unfortunately, here in the depth of Florida summer, full tours of the complex are out of the question. We wander in there once or twice a week, but in order to get home before the day gets too hot, we have to turn around way too soon and wander out again. We may not see any humans or dogs, but ducks we shall always have with us

A New Game

So here we are in a whole new location, with a wide open world to explore. At first Grace just led me around Solano Grove, our condo community, but I knew it wouldn't contain her for long. We just couldn't squeeze a two-hour walk out of this little place. First we tried going north on San Jose Boulevard, across Goodby's Creek, past the Hooters with its eight - count 'em - eight boat docking slips. We wandered into a couple of neighborhoods along San Jose, but nothing really clicked. We tried going south on San Jose, and that was much better. There were ponds and ditches and paths through wooded areas, as well as populated businesses where people could fawn over her.

A couple of days ago, we tried going north again, but very soon we turned left onto Beauclerc Road. This she liked because there were bushes and ditches and neighborhoods to explore on a long not-very-busy road that stretches for miles. I like it  because it has a sidewalk all the way along one side. Of course, she tries to drag me over to the sidewalk-free side, but I prevail (mostly.)

This morning we did the Beauclerc Road thing. She pooped in somebody's yard and I picked it up as usual. There were trash cans out in front of the houses all along the road, but they were empty so I didn't put my bag in them. I carried that bag for a long while, waiting for that golden opportunity to get rid of it. Then, up ahead I heard and then saw a garbage truck working its way along a side street, headed for Beauclerc Road. I quickened our pace, hoping to make it to the last undumped can  in time. I didn't. But I saw that the truck was mechanically picking up the cans and dumping them into a large opening just a few feet higher than my head. As the truck went by, I flung my bag into the opening. "Two points!" the driver called out, and gave me a thumbs up.

On we went down the road. Just a few minutes later, Grace pooped again. Wouldn't you know it, the same truck was coming out of the next neighborhood as we got there. I shot, I scored. "You should be playing basketball," said the driver. Yeah, right.