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Swans' grace, beauty belie nastier nature
(by Hertha Binder - July 29, 2009)
OF KIDS AND NATURE, BY HERTHA BINDER
Swans' grace, beauty belie nastier nature
Oh, the graceful beauty of swans. When both our kids were teenagers, one summer we went for a week to Michigan, to the northwestern area of the lower peninsula. Each boy had a friend along. We stayed at a cabin on Glen Lake and spent the time water-skiing, windsurfing, jet skiing and hiking the sand dunes.
The kids behaved better than I had expected, so I didn't mind when Kenny asked, "Mom, they have a go-cart place in Traverse City. Can we go there?"
"Does everyone want to ride those noisy things?"
The other three boys eagerly nodded their heads. "If you don't want to ride, Mommy, you can just watch us."
"OK. Let's go. Jeff, you drive."
In Traverse City, I looked at the go-cart place. It seemed well organized and safe. "How long do you think you'll want to ride?"
"About an hour," said Jeff.
"I'll look around the bay and pick you up in an hour."
"You have the camera?" Kenny tried to be helpful.
"Yes, and an extra roll of film."
"Can you make it an hour and a half?" asked Jeff's friend.
I laughed. "All right, but you guys better be ready by then."
Many smaller lakes in that area are as clear and turquoise blue as the Caribbean Sea because of their sandy bottoms. The Grand Traverse Bay is no exception. I decided to drive along the slim peninsula that divides the bay into the West Arm and the East Arm. There wasn't much traffic, so I could often stop to look and photograph. Cherry trees had more fruit than leaves, giving the crowns a red sheen. White and pink wildflowers made an ideal foreground to the blue lake. It was afternoon, and, looking east, I had the sun in my back while on the west side the wavelets were glistening golden against the sun.
In the shade I found a little cove with a small dock. This seemed to be public property giving fishermen access to the lake. One pickup truck was parked there, but I saw no one. Quietly, I sat down on the dock, enjoying the stillness and peace.
After I had been looking through my camera viewer, I suddenly noticed a pair of swans slowly gliding towards me. What tranquil, regal grace. I took several pictures of them and was delighted that they came so close. They stopped in front of me, apparently expecting food, but I had nothing with me. After a few minutes and some honking, they left me, seemingly in disgust, and went onto the beach. On land they don't look so elegant, rather like overgrown geese, so I didn't watch them anymore, turning my back on them while I took more pictures of the lake.
Suddenly, there was a loud, strange noise right behind me. A raspy sound, then the clank of something being hit with wood and a man shouting, "Git! Git!"
I turned quickly. The bigger swan was hissing at me with outstretched neck, his beak only a foot away.
A man was whacking him on the head with a paddle. "That guy wanted to nip you," he said. "They can give you a nasty bite."
"Gosh," I stammered. "I'm glad you saw him and chased him off, really glad you did. Thanks so much."
He chuckled. "If that big goose had bit ya, you might've fell right into the water, bein' scared."
"I probably would have. Say, do you think you hurt him with that paddle?"
"Nah. They are tough. He'll just shrug if off. That pair's been hanging around here for a long time." He gave me a quick wave as he turned to his truck.
"Thanks again!" I got into my van and still sat there for awhile.
As a little kid, I once had stayed with my parents at a farm where a gander always hissed at me. My dad had to chase him off. But a swan? I had never heard that those symbols of beauty are so aggressive.
When I picked up the kids, all four talked at the same time, describing the go-cart adventures.
Then Jeff asked, "Did you have a quiet time, Mom?"
"Could you rest?" Kenny tried to be polite.
So I told them about the swans.
"Wow!" Kenny's friend laughed. "I wish I could'a seen that swan attack your mom."
Jeff started the engine. "He forgot that he's supposed to have grace and beauty."
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