Once upon a time on a small but busy spur of a canal, a pair of mute swans built a nest. The female (the 'pen') settled on the rather ramshackle nest to incubate her large white eggs and her life-partner (the male or 'cob') stood guard and steadfastly kept her company near by.
Occasionally she would stand to turn the eggs and once or twice she left them to go to the nearby canal to eat and drink.
Several weeks passed and then it became apparent she was no longer alone in the nest....
Eventually the little ones took their first steps outside of the nest and six fluffy little chicks could be counted. One egg did not hatch.
Carefully protected by their mum and dad (assisted by some friendly folks living in nearby canal boats) the cygnets quickly grew.
Taking care of the little family in such a busy area was challenging for the parents and for the local 'support team' of friendly humans and especially as some viewed the swans as either dangerous or sport.
The myth that they can break a man's arm with one blow of their wings is simply nonsense. They can peck but more usually the adults will warn intruders away with a hiss and a raised wing display. On ther land they are clumsy and ungainly.
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| Pa swan with raised wings. |
The summer months were not without incident and the swans had to be rescued from a few close scrapes but tragedy struck one hot sunny day when a loose dog, a small terrier, entered the private grassy area where the swans had previously made their nest and where they would regularly rest out on the grass. The dog grabbed a half-grown cygnet and shook it. The swans retreated to the water and a swan-friend retrieved the poor little bird, which died in her arms.
The remaining five cygnets continued to grow and became a regular feature at the local canal-side cafe, although by the end of the summer the fledgling were almost full size and some found their presence around the tables outside - where they had successfully begged for food their whole short lives - disconcerting.
The fledglings finally developed flight feathers, meaning that at last they might be able to fly.
And fly they did. Four leaving the old canal spur one day and suddenly heading off to find lives, mates and territories elesewhere.
This left the parents and just one youngster.
And then one day in mid-November all three disappeared and many weeks went by.
The little canal spur was a sadder place without its swans and there were fears for their safety.
Then by chance I found them - all three on a very different part of the main canal several miles away and near to where it joins the river.
And since then, the two aduts have been seen back near their original nest site and the fledgling seems to have been persuaded to go and make her life somewhere else.
