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May 25, 2008
As I walked to the Post Office, I crossed a dead Mallard lying in the grassy strip next to the sidewalk, feathers still brilliant in the sun. I remembered the females nesting in the shallow lake across the road, and considered the newly mate less one sitting on a small pile of eggs. Her evening is going to be a little quieter and a little colder perhaps. I know she will find a mate next year, but I canít help feeling some pain for her. Iíve no doubt she will too. I donít think we have a monopoly on that.