By seven the pond railing already looked like a waiting room. Four ducks sat in a neat row, bills pointed at the bright patch over the bakery, and the park keeper hung a small wooden sign: today you may leave the umbrella at home.
We asked at the kiosk. "They do not guess," said the woman with the warm rolls. "If even one of them fidgets, the sign stays in the shed. This morning they were still as teacups. I walked over without a coat and did not regret it."
The keeper pinned a polite note to the fence. Visitors are welcome to nod to the ducks, but please do not squeeze onto the railing for a better view. The duty roster is full, and the water likes a little quiet while the forecast is being decided.
A day later the same four came back, shook their feathers once, and sat down again. The sign went up before the first tram. A sparrow tried the rail, thought better of it, and took the bench, which everyone agreed was the right kind of weather manners.