We leave the grocery store with the best of intentions and two months later, cleaning out the cupboards, conduct an en-masse health food dump. Beginning with the stale, unopened All-Bran, which we bring to the beach for a lesson in nature nurture.
They gather as we approach, feast-clucking.
We ceremoniously sprinkle the tiny brown nobules, which instantly balloon with grass sweat and dried-up droppings.
We stare at the ducks; the ducks stare incredulously at the ground.
Then it hits them: It’s Them Again. They won’t even pass over Mount Fibremore, skirting the edges with suspicion.
We go back the next day and the pile sits undisturbed, the ducks giving it embarrassed sideways glances, shuffling and waiting for the popcorn lady.