Trooping of the Swans

Last Sunday, a week ago, that is, my guy and I headed off to Stratford for the annual trooping of the swans down to the Avon River where they swim and frolic for the summer. We parked near their winter quarters and, hunching into our coats against the frigid wind, followed the crowds over to the large pen where both ducks and swans pecked at the ground (and each other!) while adoring onlookers gawked.

The grace of these huge birds never fails to attract as they glide blissfully and effortlessly across the water.

The emerald sheen of the busy Mallards added colour to the scene as we watched the mating games these three were playing.

Sadly the cold kept the ice in the river and there was little open water for them so there was no parade to the Avon at all. Nevertheless we gloried in this promise of spring. Below these three hoped we were toting food but alas I had only my camera to capture them scrabbling and hissing at my feet.

Off by the far fence, away from the onlookers, two swans formed that heart picture over and over, interested only in each other. Maybe if we had waited we might have seen spring really get going!

Back in the car we turned up the heater and sipped on our Timmie hot chocolates. Mmmm, good. Spring breezes would be a few days yet.