This is the story of a solitary swan. It is a story as imagined by me and not narrated by the swan. Swans, as we all know, do not tell stories the way we understand them.
They just glide on often swampy waters of creeks with no identifiable purpose. Purpose is a human preoccupation. Attributing purpose to things in the universe is also a human preoccupation. I do not look for purpose. I just glide through life the way a swan does.
I have been observing this solitary swan for several weeks now. On my early morning walks it is there in the sometimes algae-laden and sometimes clear water of a creek near my house. I am not a particularly brisk walker. The swan's serene inactivity makes me even slower. I make it a point to look at it for a few moments before moving on. Occasionally, I take pictures. I doubt if the swan knows it is being photographed.
Not being an ornithologist I am not well-informed about the various habits of swans other than that they clean their plumage from time to time. More often than not this particular swan just floats with its craning neck looking straight ahead at nothing in particular. There are some sudden moves when it twists its long and slender neck into what looks like an early version of a pretzel.
I am not sure about its gender but going by its generally large size, it is male. That means it is a cob as opposed to a female which is a pen. I am equally unsure about its status, as in whether it is single, married, separated or divorced. At this point I can crack a silly joke and say that going by its calm demeanor, he is not in any relationship; certainly not married. I have never seen a companion with it. Perhaps it is at an age where it leads a celibate life. I can ask the swan directly but like I said swans do not tell stories in the way humans understand.
I make no attempt to befriend it because it is almost always 20 to 30 feet from me in the creek. Also, I see no point in actively befriending fellow sentient life. Of course, if an opportunity presented itself, I would pet it a bit.
As is the case with aquatic birds, their bodies look completely steady and still above the water surface even as underneath they often paddle quite feverishly. I have not seen this swan paddle feverishly. It moves around ever so imperceptibly that I feel as if the water has moved even while it has remained stationary.
I do not know where the swan goes at night and how it sleeps. It has been at least two months, if not longer, that I have always found the swan in the creek in the morning. I am sure it flies away as the day progresses. It is the only swan among a clutch of ducks and geese, which are quite loud in registering their presence, especially geese. It stands in a blur of greys and sandy browns of the geese and the ducks for me. In that sense the swan has great charisma.
One day, this swan will die unheralded as will I but little more remembered I suppose.
So that is my story of the solitary swan.