Black Swan

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A jet black feather floats slowly down the river, pausing to spin round a few times in front of me. I don't move for a second, transfixed by the inky darkness of it, an effect only highlighted by the swirling water. Each individual strand is distinct, in that moment, the sharpness of the image surprisingly strong. And I'm a good few meters away.

After a second's consideration, I inch forward carefully, trying not to fall in, and then I'm grabbing the feather out of the water to inspect it more closely, even if that's dangerous. I back up immediately.

Rivers are dangerous things, after all, when treated with disrespect.

I find myself coming down to this area a lot, especially recently. There's something poetic about the river, about the way it always seems to be there. Sure, sometimes the creatures you see are different, the seasons change, sometimes there's pollution, sometimes the animals are gone entirely or ice has frozen their access points. But the river, at its core, is always the same.

It's a beautiful sense of eternity, even if I know the mortality of this place. It's too tranquil for someone to let this last forever, and I'm well aware of that. So coming here is like a release, of sorts, a chance for me to reflect on everything happening in my life.

And then I see it.

At first, I think it's just a shadow, but then my eyes focus once more, and I realise that it's a black swan, and my heart skips a beat. I always knew they existed, of course I did, but I didn't think they came to this country, didn't consider the possibility.

But it's beautiful.

"Hey there," I murmur quietly, making a cooing sound in the back of my throat, and the bird tilts its head at me, curious. "You're stunning, aren't you? Where did you come from, huh?" I reach into my bag, pull out a small amount of birdseed. "I don't have any bread, it's supposed to be bad for you, but I've got some seeds?"

The swan seems to glide over the water toward me, leaning toward my outstretched hand. I nearly recoil, but then realise that it's just going to freak the poor thing out even more. So I don't move, resisting the urge to run away. Swans can be aggressive, after all.

However, much to my surprise, before I can throw the seeds in its general direction, it stretches its head out and scoops a few seeds directly from my hand, lifting its head to swallow it. "Holy shit," I breathe, staring at the stunning creature, "I've never had a swan eat from my hand before."

There's a moment of silence, almost peace, and then the swan leans forward again, looking almost disappointed when it finds that it's eaten everything I had in my hand. I think for a moment, then reach into my bag again and grab another handful. "You want some more food, huh?" I say quietly, holding out the seeds for the swan to delicately take, just like before.

This happens a few more times, then I sit down on the edge of the river bank, as my lower back begins to hurt a little with the strain of leaning forward all the time. "I don't have many more seeds, but you're more than welcome to hang out with me here for a while, if you'd like," I say conversationally. "It's a little weird that I'm talking to a swan, I know, but there's nothing wrong with it. You seem pretty tame. You're not gonna peck my face off."

The swan pulls back its head at the word 'tame', and I swear it almost looks disgusted. "Okay, okay, I get your point," I say, holding up a hand. "I'm sorry, I promise I do trust you, buddy, you're good. It's just not....not always normal for a swan to be so chill around a human being. That's literally it. I swear."

I take a deep breath, glancing up at the sky, my eyes widening at the dark blue shade it seems to have become. "Fucking hell, when did it get so late?"

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