I went for a bike ride today. It was nice. Not cold. Not hot.

When I got to the first bridge in my ride, about three miles out, I heard ducks, really loud ducks, and I looked to my right and a formation of ducks were ascending from the water, headed straight for the bridge. I ducked. Er–lowered my head to my bike handlebars and took off as fast as I could. They went over my head about a third of the way across the bridge. And they weren't very far over my head either.

Just as they passed over, I heard another loud noise and looked right again. Another duck formation was taking off.

I swear they looked like bombers from WWII.

When I returned over the bridge there was a lone duck sentinel, who took off as I approached and did not fly over my head.