Earlier this week, we were down at the cottage, supposedly to work, but somehow that didn't happen. Walls did not get painted. Garden did not get weeded. Instead, I spent the time on emails, Sisters In Crime work, and -- oh yes, too little writing.
Distractions along the way were provided by Mother Nature herself.
In the last couple of years, we've had swans to entertain us. The hunters don't like swans. They frighten away the ducks and geese they want TO KILL. (Although, I must say that if hunters actually eat the fowl, at least the killing serves a purpose. Those who kill for sport are about the lowest of the low -- just my opinion.) The DEC comes around and destroys the swan eggs every spring. (Gotta keep the money rolling into the state from those hunting licenses you know.) But one Mom and Pop swan outfoxed them, and not only had an egg escape the DEC, but FIVE of them.
Swans are beautiful, majestic creatures. And seeing one take off or land on the water is something not to be missed. They exude a feeling of serenity. Nature at its best.
So how come every time I come out with the camera, all I get are SWAN BUTTS?
Okay, the swans are hungry. Okay, right off our break wall there's a big patch of lovely, delicious weed that attracts them. Still, can't they pose for a few shots before they chow down? And if they have to expose their butts to the breeze, can't they do it facing the other direction?
And Mama is no more demure than her kids, although I caught her just before her tail feathers were waving in the breeze in this shot.
What's your beef with nature?