Not for this blog...no way, no how.
I heard the music of swans twice today. With the cold Arctic air we've been receiving, the gray skies and snowflakes and ice around the edges of the ponds, it is time for swans.
The last time I heard swans, it was in the spring, just when I was getting a new refrigerator...Strange coincidence, Floridacracker?
Anyway, swans have a voice than summon you from the depths of whatever it was you were involved with. I heard the swans from inside my cookshed, with music playing. The first time, I was stocking walleye in a lake, but I paused to hear the muted whistles, the sweet music of a V-formation of swans flying overhead, chased by the wind, by the snow, by the grey clouds of November. The second time, I rushed outside in a second. The perfect V of swans flew right over the house. Wow.
These are Tundra swans, which like their name, travel from the tundra to the Gulf coast and beyond. They are wild and beautiful, with a haunting call that reminds me of cold winds and snowflakes and frozen marshes with yellow grasses and red shrubs. Beautiful.
Tomorrow for work I'm going on a three hour road trip down to pretty near southern Minnesota to pick up some walleye to stock in one of our local lakes. Three hours one way, that is. I wish our trucks had CD players; I've been enjoying a couple CD's by a local group, Trampled By Turtles, lately. Oh well, it will be nice to see some of the country I don't normally see.