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33 A Pair of Mallards A winter sun lights a pair of mallards standing on the ice at the edge of smooth water. Another pair mirrored beneath them in the floating world among mountains, five bare cottonwoods and a single pine. Orange legs, iridescent green head of the drake, the brightest things in the landscape today. Now they are preening breast feathers, stretching their legs, perfectly at home, I think as I look up from my notes to find them gone. Small waves radiate over the surface. They must have stepped from the ice ledge and used the water to take off. Gone now into the winter sky and water mirror those orange legs standing over the image of orange legs and the drake’s green head, the many overlaid feathers accepting the light that keeps on arriving, moving the light, moving the gaze away from the hen whose mottled feathers wear the muted colors of the land. ...

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