Wild swans are winging by overhead; the third time in as many days.
They call as they fly and I wonder if they are just having conversations with each other, like we would on a long car trip…the younglings honking, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” and the elders threatening to turn this flock around and fly home if the kids don’t behave.
Are they commenting on the things they pass at 70 miles an hour, or is it the waterfowl equivalent of buzzing the natives? “HONK HONK NYAH NYAH! Can’t catch us, boo yah!”
If they’re trying to get our attention, they’ve succeeded.
They trumpet and I turn, lifting my head, tracking them until they’re out of sight and hearing. They fly low and they are loud and their necks are ridiculously long in flight.
The wild swans sound a bit like barking dogs from inside the house. A big pack of baying hounds flying past.
Flying over Flyinge, through the rain.
I wonder what it is like, flying through the rain singing, with no protection except the oil in your feathers and the aerodynamic envelope of pressure; as the water beads and rolls from your tail in a silver freefall. I wonder if they get tired of holding their feet up. I wonder if they wish they could just take the train.
We were going to drive to Germany in May, both cars, but now we think we’ll fly. We will fly faster than the swans, but it won’t be as fun. I will sit in my airplane seat, belt dutifully latched, and watch the light outside the windows streak the wings with silver, quietly honking once in a while to myself.
How to Tell the Difference: Swan and Goose Identification
Bouncing, Bubbling, Boundless (and Belated) Birthday Wishes to carrieb!