Sunday, October 05, 2014

Trumpeter Swans

It is a chilly evening at the marsh.

Above the roar of the automobiles, a swan calls to her mate: Coho, coho!

They flex their wings in preparation for the long migratory flight.

A few more dives, then they head for the rushes.

The snow creeps down the mountains.

Coho! Coho! All is well!

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