My life with wild swans

Lori McCray
Jul 24, 2017 · 3 min read
Lovers in the muck, William & Bella, Sunday swamp
Grist Mill field (no, there’s water under the invasive Water Chestnut)

Last Sunday at the pond, I met a very knowledgeable gentleman, and I enjoyed chatting with him about the great outdoors (we covered a lot of ground. Water Chestnut, Lily leaf beetles, other invasive species and how they got here, Lyme Disease). And of course the annoyingly piercing whistler, who whistled at William for 50 shots, to get him to turn his head (i wanted to slug him after half those whistles but I am still weird about confrontation). Yesterday (i go every other day. I should leave Sundays out), there was a strolling couple and a man with a cap and a big stick trailing them. He seemed like a park ranger type, waxing eloquent about all things ‘Swan’ but some of his facts were off and he was more interested in his soliloquy than the real life swan saga taking place in front of him (as he was telling the couple how aggressive swans are, I was sitting sweetly beside them on a rock in the water). The couple, however, found me quite fascinating and asked all kinds of wonderful questions (why do they stay here with all this gunk in the water? What do they eat all Winter? Why don’t they have babies? Why did Bella just hiss at you? (they had asked me their names, which I found most endearing)) but the orator would not let me finish my sentences. People are funny (he told them the swans could take their arm off. That part is true).

He did say one remarkable thing. He said the pond got cleaned, where he comes from in Michigan (he was talking like he owned the pond, and he’s not even from Sudbury, MA! I thought he worked there, the ‘apprentice’ the miller is training), by removing the stuffing from an old mattress and dragging the exposed springs across the bottom, tied to a power boat. I love the visual. Even if it didn’t work, it would be wicked fun, lol.

His other service to me, as I picked through my annoyance at his know-it-all attitude, was the kick in the pants to get typing the story of William, which has been sitting at the edge of the computer desk waiting to come to life. I’ll type it up on the next rainy day, I’ve said repeatedly and not done so. Is it a story that anyone else can tell? And might I start with this story? Once upon a time, there was a peaceful pond. And dumb ass people came with their whistling and their bravado and wrecked it for everyone. The End. lolol. I’m bad. William & Bella behaved quite nicely (except for her hissing, which she really can’t seem to help. I’ve never had a swan continue to hiss, even after they’ve come to love me, and she clearly does, so am not taking it personally but it didn’t look good in front of strangers. “No, she likes me! It’s instinctual, her “go-to” setting” (park ranger offered many theories, one of which was that I was too close to her mate. Which is funnily ironic, because all four of William’s partners have respected his great love for me, by going off at the end of visits to leave us to our “special time”. All four of them! They totally get it. It would have been impossible to explain this to The Ranger. Which is why i should write the book. It’s raining today. I just might do it!)

Dedicated to my two new Medium friends, Jim Reeves (i really must learn how to highlight) and Kathy Salzberg. Jim has been urging me to finish the book for quite a number of weeks now and Kathy writes the funniest pithiest side splittingest stories I think I have ever encountered, and I adore a good story. Please check her out: https://medium.com/@kathysalzberg and Jim: https://medium.com/@jimreeves1

Lori McCray

Written by

Photographer, Poet, Musician, Mother, Mystic, Gardener, friend of wild creatures, swan whisperer. Find me on Flickr: https://www.flickr.com/photos/wingthing/

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