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A reaction to toddlers arriving at the duck pond. From the bank, I watched the little ones hurl tiny handfuls of seed toward the birds, volleying food all about the place with their undeveloped aim. The mallards had been waiting eagerly and were poised like sprinters in the seconds before the gun--in this case, the sound of the first payload against the water's surface. The race was on, and every duck was there to win. I don't who was more delighted. The children or the birds.