The feathers of this young duck were so pretty to me--a chorus of delicate patterns that, were I a suit maker or costume designer, would inspire the silk lining of some rich jacket that would open on these golds and coppers in their surprising houndstooth (duckstooth?) & swoops & arcs of hatching. #TextureTuesday
A zoomed-in close-up of the previous duck photo showing only eir breast and the top of eir belly, the back of eir wing-tucked head, and the beginning of eir wing. While the photo is not as sharp this close to, nevertheless the wonderfully varied and detailed patterns that meet together on the side of the duck are obvious and lovely, all rendered in the beautiful browns and coppers of the mallard. Each pattern has a hand-drawn quality to it: The breast is a series of striped scallops like little sailboats of chocolate and white, the pointed sails pointing upward as the scallops fall down the length of eir breast; to the right, eir flank is decorated in a series of closing parentheses that ripple from left to right in dustier brown and grey; above the flank, we see the beginning of eir wing in golden stripes split with copper in elongated vials that glow warmly on the eir back; eir cheek, nestled atop eir breast, bill burrowed invisibly into eir wings, is a quiet pointillism of grey.
Photo of a lovely lady mallard standing in left-facing profile with eir bill burrowed into her back feathers on a tiny hummock in the center of a lake reservoir. Everything in the photo is a slightly glowy, coppery brown--the lightly rippled satin of the water, the reeds and rushes standing on their reflections in the background, and the duck emself, a variety of delicate patterns in arcs and swoops on eir wings, eir breast, and even the closed eye of eir face. E looks like a small monument to some duck in folklore or history that the other ducks have set up here in the reservoir like a fountain figure it library lion (but, of course, a duck)
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