Alas, we lost our bet that it would not be raining in the morning. I loaded the car, trying not to get too much water on the luggage or too much mud in the cabin. We were on the road a little after 7:00.
We saw the trumpeter swans again at Swamper Lake. I couldn’t
find a place to pull over other than at the information kiosk at the end of the
lake. I grabbed my camera and walked back to where the swans were visible.
I took the first picture at 8:10.
 |
| First view of the swans |
The swans saw me. They swam together and headed straight for me. I thought of three hypotheses that might explain this behavior: 1) they were curious about me; 2) some idiot had been feeding them, and they thought I had food, or 3) they were defending their territory and were intent on pecking my eyes out.
 |
| The swans met up |
 |
| And headed straight for me |
Whatever their intentions, it was pure magic to me. It was
so quiet that morning—no wind, no cars, no bird song. I stood silently with the
misty rain coming down and watched the swans glide toward me, propelled by the
unseen force of their legs underwater. I didn’t want to breathe for fear of
breaking the spell.
They looked at each other.
 |
They looked to the left,
And to the right,
And away from each other.
They posed for a final shot, their bodies reflected in the still water.
I pulled myself away then. We had a long drive ahead of us,
and I felt like I had been standing there a long time. I will try to hold the
tranquility of those moments until we come back next year. The swans gave me a
beautiful farewell. It was 8:15.
No comments:
Post a Comment