Just a few weeks ago it was bone chillingly cold with relentless winds that made eyes water and immediately freeze. Rich and I deemed it a perfect afternoon to take a brisk ten minute stroll along what use to be the board walk.
Not knowing where the end of the boardwalk really ended, I decided to wander the ice mound as near to the edge as I dared. As I fought the winds and concentrated on not tripping, slipping and falling into the ice bath (possibly smashing and drowning another camera), there right in front of me was a swan.
A man walking his dog took notice and told us that this swan had once been a black swan (as you can kind of tell, though the darker feathers could be mistaken for dirt) and that it was one of four who frequent the area. I wonder where his siblings are.
Here's his dog, Bear. He was rescued from a garbage dump up north, where he was found scavenging for food with the bears, so we were told. After getting is DNA tested, he was found to be 93% German Shepherd. That's basically the life story shared to us by the friendly stranger.
Bear was quite fond of the swan too.
By this time my hands were pretty frozen. I forgot my gloves and when they started to feel tingly, it was time to go.