There were ducks quacking at Rockefeller Preserve last night. Adamantly, too. Have a listen:
The sounds took me back to thirteen years ago, when I taught criminal law, civil procedure, trusts & estates, and many other subjects to a family of ducks. The family lived in the Inwood Hill Park salt marsh at the top of Manhattan, and each day, I sat atop the same rock and gave my best lecture from flash cards in order to prepare for the NYS Bar exam. Sometimes I’d do this for 12 hours a day.
The bar review course had suggested that we study for two months and in a library, but I preferred one month and on a rock outside. During this time, I watched the fuzzy babies grow up, and I’m certain that sometimes they’d swim over when they saw me, eager to begin the day’s lesson.
My strategy worked, but just by a point or two. But a pass is a pass, and my experience with the ducks was worth the risk, in hindsight.
When I heard the family quack last night, I couldn’t remember if I ever heard my duck family quack. I don’t think they did. I mean, they must have, but not while I was there. Instead, we just shared peaceful days together, as they’d come and go gracefully while I told them all I knew.
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Here’s another small post on things to hear at Rockefeller Preserve.