Wouldn't Miss It for the World, Sweetie

I was lazing around in front of the TV one evening, playing Candy Crush on my iPad and listening to reruns of Law and Order, only occasionally glancing at the screen, when my peripheral vision caught movement out the big front window.   Three swans were flying just above the tree tops, headed east, which is their usual pathway to migrate south.

I was pretty sure they were the resident swans of Tern Lake and their cygnet.  Something told me they were going to Trail Lake, down in Moose Pass proper, rather than migrating south as many of their kindred swans have done.   That also told me that the cold temperatures of late were freezing their home lake and leaving little space for the swans.

Sure enough, Tern Lake sported ice skaters the next couple days.  At Dave's Creek, the lake's outfall, I still couldn't find any American dippers downstream.

What I did find were lots and lots of brown bear tracks in the snow along the path and everywhere else.  And lots and lots of mangled silver salmon carcasses that had been pulled from the creek and partially devoured.

Then came the thaw, a couple days of warm winds and rain.   When the nastiest of the weather was over, I ventured down to the lake.   The swans were back, as I knew they would be.  With little open water, they were feeding right alongside the highway and I stopped to visit.

 

Then, it was time to check Dave's Creek to look for dippers.   I was ruing what a long, long winter it would be if the dippers were gone for the winter, and trying to tamp down a dread that the merlin that had been stalking the dippers might have been successful.

Now that the snow was gone, I couldn't tell if the bear was still active at the creek.   I had bear spray with me and I was on high alert.   The best thing to do would be to make a lot of noise as I walked the short path, but I was hoping to sneak up on the mergansers that like to hang out at a bend in the creek, and that was definitely counter-productive to keeping bears at bay.

Today, I caught the mergansers right at the outfall of the lake and, sure enough, the silly shy things took flight when they saw me, only to land at the ice edge about fifty feet away.

 Then, I started downstream.    There were a lot more fish carcasses around, only partially eaten.   I was amazed that the bald eagles haven't been flocking here, as they did last winter.

There are still a lot of salmon in the creek and sometimes they get caught in shallows.

And then, I found the dipper right on the near shore at the bend in the creek. 

 

It flew over to a favorite perch and serenaded me for several minutes.   It frequently winked its white-feathered eyelid during its aria. 

Then looked at me and said, "Watch what I can do!"

The dipper hopped over to a spot where a fallen log created a small waterfall, and, using the strong feet that enable these birds to walk under water, climbed up the waterfall to a still pool.

Then began a search. turning over rocks, moving leaves and other debris in its way, until it came up with a salmon egg.

It soon found, and swallowed, three more.   With each one,  it briefly showed off its find, as if asking me if I'd like one.


"No, thanks, I have some chick...   Uh, pasta waiting for me at home.

Then, full of its salmon dinner, the dipper hopped to a branch and settled in for a nap, giving me one last look with sleepy eyes.

"Later,"  I said.

Turning onto the highway, I stropped once again to see the swans.  The cygnet came over to visit.

"Look how much I've grown," it said, spreading its great wings.

 "And I can fly!!!"

"I know, Sweetie.   I saw you fly past my home with your Mum and Dad.   You were doing so well."

I said goodbye, and the cygnet said, "Are you coming back tomorrow?"

 "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Sweetie.   Not for the whole wide world."

Something is happening here....

What it is ain't exactly clear....


Tern Lake is thawing rapidly and today I stopped to admire a pair of swans feeding close to shore.

Trumpeter swans are usually quite shy and swim off if approached too closely.   Stay in your vehicle and they don't mind, but is you're on foot, the prefer to depart the area, especially in springtime.

I was on foot as I carefully approached.  I made sure they could see me and didn't walk straight toward them.    As I expected, they left the confines of the icy area and started swimming towards me, which would give them a large area of open water for escape.

They continued towards me.   For a few moments. I thought they were going to charge and chase me off.   They were close enough that I could see how broad those white backs were and I imagined that getting my arms around the body with my hands touching each other would be all I could manage.

At a distance, the swans don't appear that big, but when two of then are swimming right at you, you get a good idea of just how large birds that weigh 24 lbs. and have with ten foot wingspans  are.

To my surprise,  the pair didn't swim off to my right into more open water, but stopped in front of me.

 The huge male, called a cob, waded into a shallow spot next to a clump of grass and stood looking at me while the female, the pen, paddled about and groomed her feathers.

Vehicles stopped nearby on the side of the highway, but the swans remained, barely twenty feet from me.    I moved around a bit to get clear of the willows growing along the shore, but the birds remained.

"Such a pretty bird," I said softly.   "Such a pretty bird."   The cob stopped his preening and watched and listened.

 And then, as if he knew what I'd said....

I wonder if this is the pair that took up residence last summer at Tern Lake and have been hanging around in the open  water at the head of the creek.   If so, they've certainly gotten over their shyness during the winter.

The cob, behind, takes a nap while the pen keeps watch.

As long as I stood there, they remained.

Dances with Swans

 

 

 

Very nice.  Now take a bow.

 

You first, Jacquelina.   A bow.

Now you, Rudolph.

And a final curtain call.