I hope nobody’s expecting great pictures, but today, I went to see the swans. Today, there are two more swans than there were, last time I was there, and they’re off the nest and swimming around.
They’re domesticated swans, swimming in a man-made lake in the cemetery where one of my great-grandfathers is buried. (And has been, since before I was ever born or thought of, by the way.)
Just for the record, her mate was also present, and heroically defending his babies against some tiny interlopers who happened to have stale, delicious bread crumbs. Mmm… bread crumbs. I mean, Interlopers!
The lake has also been stocked with some of the orange-est goldfish on the planet. Which are incredibly fat and aggressive, and which don’t hesitate to grab bread bread crumbs floating on the surface. They almost beg like dogs. We could have a conversation about non-native fish, but these have apparently been grandfathered in.
I was taking these pictures from a ledge maybe five feet tall, and about another five or six feet away.
The babies are still having a little bit of trouble swan-ing. Their feet keep sticking out at really odd angles, and maybe they just don’t glide as smoothly as they should.