A LESSON IN LIFE - The Swans- LOVE - AND COMMITMENT

                                         THE SWANS

It was November 1954, I was 19, living and working at my first job as a bank teller in Elrose Saskatchewan.  I roomed on the top floor of a large 2-story house with the Ellis family; they consisted of father Vern, his wife, son Rod, and daughter Arlene.

Rod who was about 16, was always after me to take him duck hunting. I loved to get out in the country and tramp around but I really wasn’t much for murdering ducks. But with the way both of us used a shotgun I figured the ducks didn’t have much to worry about.

We decided to have a go.

So one very early, very cold, (about minus 20C) very windy November morning we arrived at the edge of a small lake. As we crouched in the dark waiting for daylight, the wind picked up and it started to snow lightly. After about 30 minutes all the fun was definitely out of this stupid idea and I was ready to head for home. Robert agreed, so we stood up just as the first bit of daylight was beginning to filter through the snow.

Brushing the snow off me I heard this sort of whistling sound and looked up to see three lovely white swans flying straight at us against the fierce wind. You could see the straining of their wings and bodies as they fought to make any headway. They were only about 15 ft in the air, and at the best making 5 mph. I was awe struck watching this spectacle of nature so close at hand.

 Suddenly; two horrible explosions next to my ear broke the silence. In the same instant the lead swan lurched upward and almost simultaneously one white wing then the other turned crimson red, as if hit by a spray gun.

At first I was so dumbfounded I didn’t know what had happened, and then I realized Robert had shot this beautiful bird.

“Why the hell did you do that, you stupid idiot.” I shouted, at Robert as he stood there with the smoking gun in his hand.

“I don’t know.” Robert said.

 But I couldn’t take my eyes off what was taking place in the air a few feet away.

As it was hit by the shotgun blast there was a splat, a jerk in the air, and blood spurting along the wings. I expected this large beautiful bird to crumble at our feet. Its forward motion was stopped as it continued in such obvious pain and confusion trying to stay in the air.

This beautiful proud bird its head swinging from side to side with terror filled eyes started to lose height and began to drift backwards. Despite the blast and the smell of gunpowder the other two family members immediately slowed there flight and drifted back over top of us to their mate, all the while shrilling encouragement. The stricken bird was slowly losing its fight to get to the edge of the lake.

The other two Swans somehow got a wing under him on each side and by some unbelievable effort with their one free wing on each side not only kept him airborne but began to make headway toward the lake.  I don’t know how long this took it may have been 2 minutes or 10 minutes. These three lovely animals fought what seemed an impossible fight to get the 60 ft or so to the waters edge. To this day I don’t know how they did it, but they seemed to carry their wounded mate to the lakes edge where he flopped into the cold water.

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The three of them immediately went to the very center of the small lake where the two unharmed birds swam around their wounded comrade.  They all appeared to be consoling each other.

After about 5 minutes, to my astonishment the two healthy birds took off and disappeared toward the direction they had come, leaving the wounded one alone.

We stood there in silence.

About 10 minutes went by when suddenly the two family members appeared again out of the snow, battling against the wind in the exact same place we had first spotted them when this drama began. But believe it or not, they had about ten other Swans with them. The Swans slowly flew over our heads at a height that we could almost touch them, you could see there eyes looking at us in fear as they followed the two leaders, but not once did any of them waver in there determination to carry on.  They got to the stricken swan, landed, and immediately surrounded him.

I never really had much to do with Robert after that day. In fact I decided that the banking life wasn’t for me and I applied as an Air Traffic Controller. Being young, confident, and stupid, I quit the bank before I heard from the Department of Transport and started the drive home to Saskatoon.

It was now about the first of December and I was approaching the little dirt road that led to that small lake where the swans had given me a lesson in commitment, love and life. For some unknown reason I had this compelling urge that I had to have one more look at the lake before going home.

As I approached the wind blown little lake it appeared frozen over and totally deserted. Well I figured - I had seen this sad, lonley,depressing place, I'll just do a u-turn at the widdening in the trail at the shorline and continue on my way. Half way through the turn I noticed a movement toward the middle of the lake. I stopped the car, grabbed my binoculars and got out to have a closer look.

To my amazement there in the middle of this frozen lake, floating in a tiny patch of open water was the injured swan. Close beside her, paddling around and around, were her two mates, who it appeared to me through my mist filled eyes were stroking her neck with their beaks at each cycle. 

Over on the far shore sat a coyote, watching and waiting.

Written by Larry Bennett