My aunt Marg lives on the shores of Wiser Lake. For the better part of this week the lake has been frozen clear across, except…
…by some miracle, there is one place on the lake that’s not frozen. That small area is right behind Aunt Marg’s house. After church this morning Mark and I stopped by Marg’s house to pick up our mail. When we stepped outside our car, before I was totally acclimated, I thought I heard a swarm of bees buzzing. Instead, it was the sound of hundreds of swans and coots that were swimming in that unfrozen part of the lake.
Coots are smallish birds with dark gray bodies and black heads and webbed feet. They were in contrast to the beautiful large white swans with the graceful necks. There were a few gray swans that I believe were youngsters even though they were the same size as the white swans. I spent the afternoon visiting with Aunt Marg and watching the birds while Mark slept on her couch. At one point I saw a bunch of coots racing across the yard toward the lake, and a few moments later I saw why they were running. A black dog chased them as far as the water’s edge. He hung around for a while, the coots and swans scolding him from the water the whole time, but he finally went home and the birds were free to come and scavenge in Aunt Marg’s lawn again.
Earlier this week Mark picked up several swan feathers from Marg’s yard. They are perfectly white all the way to the tips of the quills. So perfect! I observe in awe.