Springs joy when the migrater’s return is unmatched. The trumpeter swans are one of the first to come back. The mated pairs are eager to declare ownership of their territory. They stake a pretty big claim to keep their young safe. And trust me you do not want to breech those boundaries. A swat with a trumpeter wing is something you remember, or so my husband says. He was bird watching and was unaware he had crossed a distant corner of their domain. They told him in no uncertain terms to get back and stay back.
In the fall it is incredibly dramatic to watch the birds gather for their long trip south. Tens of thousands gather near here to make the journey. I can see why they go, what with all the snow, ice and cold. What is harder to figure is why they spend the effort and time to return. It seems the thing that draws them back is the same thing that drives me to flail my arms around my head like a nutter in the summer, bugs.
Millions upon millions of bugs live here, mosquitoes, gnats, no-see-ums, ticks, every kind of ant you can imagine, inch worms, house flies, horse flies, and deer flies. We got us a serious bug buffet. It appears the bird life is the silver lining to the dark bug cloud.
It is a highly functioning system that serves to remind us we are connected. We are all part of the fabric of life, woven together, dependent on each other. From the green growings, to the burly beasts, feathered flyers, and the bug bonanza, we need each other. Pulling one of those threads out of the weave, and the whole thing unravels. We are stronger together.
May you never face a momma swan’s ire.
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