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| Trumpeter Swans at Heber Springs, AR. |
"'Here I glide, swanlike," he said,"while earth is bathed in wonder and beauty...'"
- E.B. Webb, Trumpet of the Swan (1970)
When I was living just outside of Chicago last spring, I had my first encounter with a pair of Trumpeter Swans at the Lincoln Park Zoo. Watching them glide across the pond with effortlessness, it was unbeknownst to me at the time that those two snow-white birds would be my 'spark birds.' The birds that ultimately trigger a deeper infatuation with any avian creature that I encounter, and the beginning of a well-love hobby.
The Trumpeter, scientifically known as Cygnus buccinator, is the largest water fowl species native to North America and their presence was regularly noted by early European explorers for their beauty. In contrast to the Mute Swan, an invasive species introduced from the Eurasian continent for ornamental purposes, the Trumpeter is famed for its brazen call that is reminiscent of a brass section. They have a stark appearance with a neck poised upwards, much like a ballerina's posture, and a black bill that heavily contrasts with their pale feathers.
The swan's grace was not the only aspect recorded by explorers; the Trumpeter Swan was hunted until near extinction in the 19th and 20th centuries, where the large bird provided ample sustenance. Through the organized, passionate effort of numerous conservationists, including the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, the Trumpeter Swan Society, and the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, there has been a steady return in the bird's population.
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| The Birds of America, Plate #406: "Trumpeter Swan" by John James Audubon (1827-1838) Like other swan species, Cygnus buccinator mates for life. A bonded pair will often return to the same nest mound, year after year, if a clutch hatching proved successful. Noted for their strong familial bonds, juvenile Trumpeter Swans may stay with their parents for several years where they observe essential traditions such as migration patterns. The Trumpeter Swan has been a largely misunderstood creature, a species often going unheard of by many individuals presently residing in North America. I myself spent over two decades of my life fully unaware of their existence. Despite this virtual anonymity, the presence of the Cygnus buccinator offers a testimony to a wetland's quality. The distant call of the Trumpeter indicates an abundant wildness within the natural world.
What began as a casual walk about the city ended in a multi-hour drive to Heber Springs, Arkansas just a few days shy of Christmas. On a private pond made available for public access, a flock of wild Trumpeters wintered. Dozens of dazzling white birds intermingled with their pale gray children as the sun set behind the tree-line. Their wings cut through the air with incredible power as they launched directly up from the water's surface. With a bob of their heads in unison, they blared out an opening note that would put any marching band to shame. Trumpeter Swans are devastatingly effervescent birds. That very same drive led me back to the South, where I am originally from, after a long stint in the Midwest. It has been a bittersweet change. Although I am closer to my family, my external environment can feel stagnant at times where the climate remains the same, the air thick with humidity, and car-dependent so it can be harder to stop to smell the roses. It is a struggle to forget witnessing the transition of winter to spring for the first time. To watch the sunlight on snow give way to flaming red tulips. I like to think that much like the Trumpeter Swan, I have merely migrated for a season. That one day I will fly back north when my instinct tells me that the time is ripe. For now, I have Red Cardinals, a mated pair, who I suspect have made a nest not too far so I make the extra effort to lay out birdseed when I spot the taupe-colored female hopping in the yard. I see the Ibis flying overhead on my occasional drive to the bank, and I always pause to observe the Black-bellied Whistlers when I walk to my yoga class from the parking lot. Yet even still, I think about the little-known swans with their dark eyes and bold voices. Once you have heard of them, you won't be able to stop listening. xoxo Rainey __________________________ For the swan-obsessed and fellow bird-lovers:
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