Weekly Photo Challenge: Swans at Half Light

hero

warmth

When I was a little girl, my father read to me from E.B. White’s story “The Trumpet of the Swan”. I was 8 years old when that book was published, and I can imagine my father buying it to read to me and my 3 older sisters with his own great curiosity about that remarkable writer neatly disguised as paternal generosity. I had a fascination with the part where the young swan stays at the Ritz Carlton in Boston and eats watercress sandwiches provided by room service, probably in part because I was born in Massachusetts. We had moved to the Midwest when I was 4 years old. When I was 14, we moved to California. When I was 29 and had 4 kids of my own, I moved back to Illinois. Five years ago, I moved up to Wisconsin. In the north woods, and the edge of designated Wilderness, I saw my first wild swans in the half light of evening as I was setting up camp with Steve. I thought of Louis the swan and of finding your true wild voice. I heard the deep silence of that Place and felt the tender understanding of my father, who loved the outdoors. I stood on the soft, summer pine forest floor and took these pictures. To me, the world is poetry – in moment and memory. 

Half-Light

19 thoughts on “Weekly Photo Challenge: Swans at Half Light

  1. I think the world is poetry as well, Scilla. Your photos are redolent of wonderful memories. Mentioning the book made me think of one of my favorites, “Make Way for Ducklings.” Thank goodness, our mom read to us! What a rich heritage we would have otherwise missed.

    janet

  2. I wish I was better at remembering poetry, Scilla. I always think swans are so gracious and used to feel sad that they were ‘Mute’. Love the campfire photo. Cheers Meg

  3. A beautiful story of your journey to the wild & I love the photo of the campfire, the tree, and Steve viewing the swans… And on your summary, “To me, the world is poetry – in moment and memory.” YES!

  4. Pingback: PERFECT FOR EASTER: David Whyte on Rilke’s “Swan” and Walcott’s “Love After Love,” | THE POET BY DAY

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