Rumours of the Tundra Swans in our neighbourhood lure us out. They migrate through here in early spring and linger for a week or two. We head to the drive along the river where the Common Mergansers are currently doing their mating dances.
Caught this female in the midst of the ritual. Love the hairdo.
Further downstream, we spotted a newcomer to town: Hooded Merganser.
Such a beautiful bird.
The swans were nowhere in sight, so we decided to drive to a nearby town. On the way, I spotted a few large white birds on a local pond:
My childhood home was surrounded by fence, bordered by tall cedars – we had a secret to keep. I learned not to trust neighbours. I learned the price of shame.
At the back of the yard was a gate that opened onto a field and beyond that a wooded area. There I found serenity, connection, and a knowledge that what happened within my father’s fortress was not the totality of life.
I like gates.
I vowed not to need fences, that my life would be an open gate, but that was senseless. I was accessible to anyone who wanted to trample my garden.
Took a few dents and whole lot of pain for me to realize that gates and fences coexist for a reason. Boundaries are healthy, and at certain times, locks are mandatory.
(Photos for Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: fences and gates. Thoughts part of my process. I’ve been obsessively photographing fences and gates recently. I’ve been sketching them too, trying to figure out the draw. Guess now I know why.)