I'm going through a mini swan phase at the moment. It all began after I photographed this family of swans by the sea in my town. I took this photo whilst on a walk last Saturday, the family of swans were bathing in the water. It was beautiful to watch that I couldn't possibly resist trying to capture the moment on my little compact digital. The cygnets cannot be far from leaving their parents, I wonder where they go? How do they choose another swan to pair off with? 
Whilst searching for swans on the internet I was led to this poem. Apparently a silent swan is supposed to burst into a first and final song before its death. The song is supposed to be one of the most beautiful bird songs ever heard;
The Silver Swan who, living, had no note,
When death approached, unlocked her silent throat.
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
Thus sung her first and last, and sung no more:
“Farewell, all joys! O death, come close mine eyes;
More geese than swans now live, more fools than wise.”
The Silver Swan, Orlando Gibbons
There is this haunting pattern behind many of the stories and myths I read concerning swans. They are surrounded by darkness and tragedy and yet, in other settings, they represent gentleness and purity; such ambivalence is haunting. See this trailer for 'Black Swan'.
I think I prefer my simple photograph.
xoxo
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