Three years ago, on a
sunny early June morning, I set out on a pleasant solo meander along the trails
in Tommy Thompson Park, AKA the Leslie Street Spit. The morning promised
much; the grass was spangled with dew and the chorus of birds filled the air
around me. Most of the spring migrating songbirds had already passed
through to their breeding ranges (except for a multitude of Cedar Waxwings) but
there were plenty of birds going about the business of creating the next
generation. I saw already-half-grown Killdeer chicks and Canada Goose
goslings grazing in the grasses. Black-crowned Night Herons and
cormorants competed noisily for nesting territory, while Great Egrets attended
mates in full courtship finery. Tiny Yellow Warblers and Common
Yellowthroats sang loudly in thickets, fiercely fending off rivals.
 |
| Cedar Waxwing |
 |
| Great Egret |
 |
| Killdeer |
As I headed out along
a dyke to check for shorebirds in one of the large ponds, I spotted a family of
Trumpeter Swans away over against the far shore. I could see they had
several cygnets and got excited, but they were too far away for photos. I
decided to sit down in the sunshine on the grassy dyke to take a snack
break. When I looked again, I could see the family of swans was headed
across the pond in my general direction. I think I dropped my protein bar
and quickly stretched out in the grass, for fear of frightening them
away. I knew the cygnets were not far from hatching and probably hadn’t
had any encounters with scary humans yet.
I couldn’t believe
it—they were coming straight for my little spit of land. The cygnets
pulled out in front and, one by one, until FIVE downy babies waddled out of the
water and started up the dyke. The little ones were leading their much
more cautious parents without hesitation, right toward me!
 |
| Cygnets |
I pulled myself into a
cross-legged position and sat quietly. One of the adults stood back a
bit, watching with a careful gaze, absolutely towering over me. There was
no mistaking who was boss in that moment! The five cygnets actually
settled down just in front of my crossed feet, nibbling at grasses, resting and
preening, completely at ease and unthreatened. I was a little dumbfounded
by this sense of implicit trust they were demonstrating.
 |
| Trumpeter Swans |
After a long while,
the cygnets got up and slowly wandered back down to the shoreline, adults in
tow, and off they swam serenely together. I still didn’t move for a time,
a little blown away by the gentleness of that encounter. I knew that many
Trumpeter Swans are banded, wing-tagged and tracked, and that some were fairly
habituated to humans, and in fact I have even hand-fed a tagged
Trumpeter Swan at LaSalle Marina since then. But these were untagged,
unbanded, and this somehow made the encounter even sweeter.
No comments:
Post a Comment