I noticed the ducks close to the beach on one of my favorite winter walks. The ocean was quiet, calm, its hue a deep sparkling blue. The sun was bright, and there were no clouds in the sky. The air was still and cold. In the stillness, the cold was not rough. It touched my face with a gentleness that eased my skin to adjust. My body immediately relaxed on a long breath, and my muscles let go of the tension they held.

I skipped down the steps to the beach with a renewed energy and the thought of a few moments of peace. I was excited to stretch out and I took longer strides down the beach. I felt fixated by a group of ducks gliding near the water’s edge. I got close and had to hop back a few steps because the waves came in fast.

Four or five ducks also got a little too close to the incoming tide because they got caught by a wave rolling into shore. It was brief, they all jumped at the same time to the back of the wave and swam away from the tugging tide. Once they were clear of the wave, they shook their tales in unison to discharge the event. Then they moved on and rejoined their flock.

The ducks moved gingerly as a group, I noticed how they stayed together a few feet apart. There was about a dozen in the flock and twice while I watched, a few split off. They did not go far from the group. They seemed to separate to talk or explore, and then seamlessly they returned to the flock.

The flock reminded me of my family that gathered and grew, sometimes breaking off to talk or the children to play, but always coming back together. Milling about each other leisurely content, it was where they belonged. I belonged too. There was a feeling of safety, protection and belonging from the outside world. And isn’t that what we all want, a place to belong?