I I was looking forward, in September, the arrival of the ducklings on the river. I like to see the first days of these little ones who do not understand the world , squawking incessantly, especially when they believe they have lost their babysitter. I was convinced I would see them before I left, on September 16th. Even on the day I left, I was hoping to see them before my departure and went to the river: they should have been there, I could feel some trepidation, they would appear in a detour … but no. The local newspaper, however, on the same day, published a picture of a string of ducklings conducted by a rather proud babysitter . I often thought about these ducklings during my stay in Montreal and once I returned, my first concern was to check where the ducklings were. They had grown up, of course, but in their ruffled feathers, one can still see the traces of their naivety, their propensity to flee humans (while their parents identify them as a source of food source and show no fear). They no longer seem to be lost and they will soon have everything they need to live their independent duck lives , but they still have the traits of youth and I have promised myself to go and admire them again.