Dead Ducks

Discovering 'The Real World'

Hello Dear Reader,

I’m putting most posts behind a very permeable paywall. I’d like to encourage people who enjoy reading, and are able, to please consider sending a few dollars our way. It goes directly into paying our farm helpers, buying seeds, and allowing me to write more. I understand that not everyone is able. If that’s you, just send me a message, and I’ll give you a subscription for a year. No explanation needed.

I’ve got a few articles on deck that detail certain crops and the techniques of growing that will be coming out in the next few weeks, along with a compost toilet manifesto, as those are popular these days. As always, sincere thanks for reading!

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October 19, 2022

The facts of that day go like this - I had a few drinks at a neighborhood party in Hlubočepy, about a mile and a half from our little farm. The chilly night air and the beers persuaded me to stay the night at our apartment with Lucie, rather than bike back to the farm to close the door of the ducks’ house. I’d closed them every night for the last couple of years, surely one night they would be fine on their own.

We arrived in the morning, walked down the small hill into the garden, and there, right in the middle of the main path, was a single boot. Very odd. It’s mate still stood where I left it, upright next to our tool shed about twenty feet away. How did it get in the pathway? I looked around. Everything else seemed to be in order. I shrugged it off and continued through the forest to our little land where the geese and ducks roam. I felt my heart drop as I neared the gate and saw a headless duck along the fence, like something had tried to drag it under. I looked up to see a lump of feathers and another dead duck in the middle of the garden. I let out a few choice words and went running to the back of the land towards the ducks’ house, passing bodies as I went.