When Ducks Dance...

I have been in the darndest mood the last couple of days. Or I should say moods, plural. Pick a feeling, any feeling (well, almost any). Throw a dart at an emotional pie chart and I was probably there. Just ask Chuck! The weather has been warm and muggy, more like July than late September. Maybe that contributed to my feeling like a farmer with no land lately, all at sixes and sevens. Searching for an antidote, I asked Chuck to take me somewhere pretty, somewhere with a view. Poof! He did. He really is the bee’s knees.

We were already out and about running errands so we drove over to the The Old Mill. It was originally built in 1761 and has been a restaurant for many decades. The mill pond hosts a variety of waterfowl. How can you not smile when you see ducks dance? O.K., maybe they aren’t dancing but it lifted my spirits and had me swinging back firmly into gratitude territory. So firmly that I ended up crying happy tears. But that’s better than crying for no darn good reason at all. I know. It’s true. Chuck’s a saint. And I’m so very lucky!

Here are a few more photos.
Hope you all have very good weekends! ;o)