In the Garden.
Seven muscovy ducks in the grass and on the railings of the boardwalk, flashed their wonderful knobbly gnarled and knotty red wattle, which played in various forms around their eyes and beak. One white headed girl had some red wattle blobs on the back of her neck – Eve decided they were not horrid cancerous lesions but attempts to grow wattle on the back of the head. Nice try , she thought to the duck, cool idea, red spots down the back. Didn’t quite succeed this time, but good going.” This duck had fine yellow tips to its galoshes, all the rest had plain black feet. This duck seemed perhaps a little shunned by the others.
Eve noted the greater and smaller emplacements of red wattle around the eyes of three black headed ducks on the rail, a low crest of feathers gave style to two of them. Are they males, she wondered, is this third one, smaller and with a simple circle of red wattle, a female? Another crestless duck with a white and black head also appeared possibly male or female, Eve did not know how to tell, You two go together quite nicely. She used her thought power to direct them towards each other. Several of the ducks landed on the grass beside Neckbutton, in fact they almost seemed to be challenging Neckbutton and driving her further off. Eve continued talking to them, out loud now, in a musical flow of sound that was no particular language; Neckbutton in her yellow toed galoshes went around in a circle as tho following Eve’s directions and the others followed as tho Neckbutton, so admired by Eve, was now their hero too.
Eve thought about how the scarcity of some birds makes us love them, and the prevalence of others leads to territorial squawking. She preferred the new – she was a Democrat in that sense. She also loved the status quo or the majority – as Republicans do – because it was the base of the new. They were two parts of system, neither to be privileged, both necessary. Roots and Wings.
Now Neckbutton and the small black duck were moving off together over the grass. Eve gave up trying to put them into matched pairs and left them to sort it out for themselves. Gender is something that people just know inside themselves, when they are simple like Duck people. “Ducks just let you be”, Leunig. Whether a person is female gendered with male characteristics or vice versa, or purely cisgendered is immaterial, and simple to accept when you are LoveDuckPeople.
Eve, who had thrown on some flat blue casual shoes with cut outs which showed her pink socks, cut down the front to release their tightness on her stocky ankles, and then some leg warmers made of nordic wool socks with the foot cut off, and crinkled slategrey linen gaucho pants, and a shapeless knitted cotton sweater in colors of scrambled eggs, met her friend Ginger on the path. Ginger was pale skinned and wore a straw sunhat, a loose check shirt in pale brown and white, and black tights. She looked very pallid and did have many health concerns.
“ You mean those big black ducks by the river?, Ginger asked, “the females are the ugly ones. The males have the handsome plumage because they are trying to attract mates. It’s just the opposite with us, we have to put on the makeup and get dressed up…”
“Oh no, they’re not ugly!!” Eve interrupted. “ They’re like us. We dress how we like. It was madness that we had to try to attract a male and wait to be chosen. What bullshit is that?? Males need to attract us. We need to attract each other. Its mutual.” She went on, and on. Finally she agreed, “it’s true , i used to think they were ugly, until I became one with them. We’re muscovies..” she laughed, and waved her wrinkly arms in front of Ginger, who added, “ Oh yes and I’ve got scars all over me…”