"Swan Lake"

 That's all the identification I'm giving out. It's not the real name. The docks are pulled out before any ice builds, boats sit on land snugly tarped, so there's nothing else in the water to disturb them. Trumpeter swans, that is. Adult pairs - those are the white ones, although some have brown necks from mucking about the bottom of wherever of whatever lakes they raised their cygnets on last summer for green food  growing off the bottom. The cygnets are still grey, still sticking close to their parents, probably signalling all the other birds that they're not big enough to be paired up yet. It's the wrong time of year anyway.

We have not seen a single Trumpeter on the lake all summer. Too busy, to noisy, too many humans, not to be trusted. Until now.

Migration season is upon them. Just over a week ago there was a single set of parents with two young, gracefully parading just offshore, viewable to anyone who was picking up mail at the mail shed with an open view to the shore almost a block away.

A couple days later they were not to be seen. Not, that is, until turning the corner and looking across this end of the lake to the other end. Some were paddling down at that end. Others had pulled out onto the grassy yards. Steve was along, and together we counted 13.

I've been busy, and not down getting mail or otherwise anywhere with a view again until tonight. A bit before dark I drove down to grab the mail. Steve was expecting another book. Once that and the other mail were on the passenger seat of the car, I made the loop along the lake to my next errand. It wasn't too dark to count 15 trumpeters on our end of the lake, mixed ages, scattered groupings.

Heading across the road's lake loop, I noticed another woman, standing still, looking to where the bigger group had been a few days previously. A quick glance showed a bunch more swans where her gaze was fixed. As I pulled up with her, I rolled my window down. Without even having to ask, she informed me there were twenty on that end of the lake. I informed her of my counted 15 on my end. Thirty five swans on the lake this evening!  We both were thrilled they had paused here, not leaving the area quite yet, and shared our pleasure as being able to witness them, before both of us went our separate ways.

I'm now hoping our Thanksgiving company might get a view of them before they head on their way.