It was a beautiful summer evening, just before my birthday. While fantasizing about all the presents I would receive, from the corner of my eye, I noticed the light turning more and more beautiful… That was not as planned. This would make fomo knock on the door, who definitely was not invited! The idea of birthday-fox-cubs in golden light forced itself upon me just a little too vividly. Jeez, the light was so annoyingly beautiful. I shook off this pointless thought and slit my eyes to ignore that overenthusiastic evening sun. Which worked quite well….
Until one sneaky, persistent ray managed to work its way into my retina. For a very, very short moment, I opened my eyes and I briefly threw a look into my garden. With the intention of looking away immediately, but my gaze glided naturally through the pergola with grapes over my wooden decking, past my pond, smoothly between the apple trees and my allotment to my wisteria-garlanded gate, while the evening sun illuminated every detail with a warm golden edge. The light was so bright and the purple flowers decorated the gate so beautifully that it looked like a kind of … paradise gate. Can you picture it? Hold this for a moment…
For years, if not all my life, I’ve had a guilty pleasure: yellow ducklings. A love not shared by most of my masculine colleagues. ‘Too cute, too childish, too yellow, too rubber duck’. But since I don’t have any real men’s ambitions anyway, I cycle every spring, looking for my personal collector’s item. Sometimes I managed to find ‘regular’ brown baby ducklings, but not yellow ones. Not surprisingly though, as ducklings have become a kind of scarce commodity. And so, much to my sorrow, no fewer than six (!) springs passed yellow-duckling less…..
Back to my garden. So my gaze was dragged towards the water: through this gate, to the dull black ditch behind it and I was just about to tear my gaze away, when he came to a sudden screeching halt as bobbing golden balls were floating in the black! At that exact moment, a white mother duck with her baby ducks, yellow baby ducks, swam right past my gate. Yessss! My wisteria turned out to be not just any wisteria, but the perfect frame of one of the most beautiful living paintings I’ve seen in ages.
I didn’t have to think long about this: Action time! I turned around, ran inside, grabbed my camera and 1.82 seconds later I was lying – just on the side – next to mother duck and her babies. And at that exact moment the golden hour started. As if an invisible hand just opened the curtains and turned on the theater lights. All spotlights on the ducks. And I was ready, but mother duck wasn’t though. My enthusiasm was a bit too much. Never mind, story of my life. I quickly put on my ‘just act normal’ cap and the party could begin. Mama duck let me enjoy her gold nuggets extensively and they treated me to a full evening show. I couldn’t have wished for a better birthday present!