It swam from the other side of the pond. A trio of ducks was swimming in the other direction, leaving perfect lines of water like three fighter jets, but the swan crossed them without a fluttering of its pristine wings. We stood beneath the shelter where lines usually waited to board the swan boats. They weren’t running today due to the inclement weather.
The swan approached, its majesty and magnificence in full regal effect. These are gorgeous creatures, but can be dangerous too. A swift blow from one of their awesome wings has been known to break human bones.
Andy watched intently as a foolish family stood by the pond’s edge feeding it. A little boy held out his hand, but the swan did not nip. I was more afraid for what Andy would do than I was what the swan might do (and he later confirmed my suspicion saying he would have had to go in after the kid if the swan grabbed for food and ended up pulling the boy in). According to Andy, parents tended to freeze in such moments.
We watched the swan take the proffered snacks unhurriedly and without timidity or trepidation. I herded us along before the temptation to rescue anyone became too strong, because if Andy went in after someone, I would have to go in after Andy.
The swan swam away as we headed in the direction of the Four Seasons, a usual lunch haunt that had special meaning…
