The early morning quiet is broken by a brief tap on my porthole window and some quacking. And when I pulled back the curtains the beady eye of a duck is staring me in the face. It seems they recall where they had a fine supper last night!
If I look to the right, at the bridge we crossed into Saint-Jean-de-Losne yesterday, the ducks are rather dramatically silhouetted against the early morning tendrils of sunlight. I'm rather fond of the bubbles rising in the water too!
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