Sage Swan

His whole world was covered in ice. The pond, the bridge, the tree that stretched out over the water, all was white. It was as if everything was covered with his down feathers. To the swan, the pond no longer seemed his home.

He walked out on the frozen water watching as the coupled ducks, geese, and swans huddled together with their mates. The swan had not found a mate. To the others the whole idea of finding a partner seemed so simple, a task that was just like flying, it was mechanical. The other birds seemed to find each other as though by magnetism. The swan felt a pull in an entirely different direction.

"I'm going to see the humans," he announced. A few of the birds raised their heads.

"Whatever for?" spat a duck from under her partner’s wing.

"I've heard strange rumors," said the swan, “Humans appear to partner up just like we do, but supposedly it is magical. I wonder if it is true.”

"Magical?" guffawed a goose.

"I don’t know, that’s how I’ve heard it described. They call it love. I wonder if I could love."

"What a silly thing to think about," said the duck nestling her head beside her companion.

The couples were quiet now, too cold to speak. The swan shivered and ruffled his white feathers.He walked away from the iced pond into the snow, his webbed feet sinking with every step. “There must be something wrong with me,” he thought as he trudged up a sloping hill. With one look back at the pond, at the other paired off birds, he left.
The light gray sky mirrored the snowy mounds beneath it and at first the swan did not know which way was up. The cold wind sent daggers through his wings, but he flew on towards the tall buildings and streetlights. The snow seemed to dampen the sound of the bustling people on the streets, but the car horns still rang in the swan’s ears. He flew low over the crowds looking for pairs.

"I wonder what love looks like," thought the swan, "perhaps it fuses to people together, perhaps it makes them sparkle like when light hits water.” He saw a twinkling flash of light and felt the elation of hope in his breast like the swelling of a balloon. Down he dove, chasing the sparkle through the busy street. Perhaps he had found it. Maybe this is what love looked like. The glimmer was anchored to a blonde woman’s wrist. something silver struck by the sun.
The swan flew so closely to her that her hair fanned out with the beat of his feathers. She screamed, and the swan realized that glimmer was not what love looked like.

He flew up again, high enough so that he could no longer see the people pointing at him or their stunned expressions muffled by hats and scarves. After circling buildings and dodging telephone poles the swan saw a couple that looked promising. They were holding hands as they walked along the street. The swan flew low over them, but not wishing to startle the humans again, landed several feet away. The couple neared and the swan waddled across their path straining his long neck for a better look at them. He could catch glimpses between the bustling bodies in the street. This had to be love, they were fused at the hands.

The eyes of the curly-haired woman darted between items in the shop windows. The eyes of the man roamed over the figure of another woman who passed him. He looked in the face of the woman who was not his mate and smiled almost greedily.

The swan began to feel that this is not what love looked like either, and took off from the sidewalk. He flew over the milling crowds, the people sitting in the cafes, and the shiny cars in the traffic lanes. The swan's whole body ached and was chilled with the cold. He could hardly feel his wings anymore. He landed on the sidewalk again and tucked in his wings feeling the joints tingle with relief. Some people crowded around him pointing. The swan looked up into their faces, but none of them looked like love.

A little girl wearing a pink coat grabbed her father by the hand. She pointed at the swan bubbling with excitement and her black shoes danced on the spot. They came closer, becoming part of the ring that surrounded the swan. The father knelt beside the little girl an circled his arms around her. The swan noticed how the father's eyes lit up at the sound of her laugh, and how the little girl reached for his large hand. The swan walked swiftly toward them, drawn by a tingling in his stomach. This is love.

The father, startled, picked up his girl away from the swan's reach. The swan stretched his neck and hopped excitedly at the man's feet spreading his wings feeling the weightlessness of flying though he was still grounded.

"This! This is love!" he honked staring eagerly at the perplexed pair. The little girl hid her face in her father's shoulder and he turned shielding the little pink figure from the swan. The swan took the man's coat in his mouth and tugged, hopping more violently.
Glaring at the great bird from over his shoulder, the father swooped his little girl away down the street.

"Did you find it?" asked the goose when the swan returned to the pond.

"Love? Yes, though there isn't much of it." he sighed as he slid a little on the ice. He was sure the ache inside him had nothing to do with exhaustion.

"I told you it was silliness," said the duck.

Sometimes the swan went to see them, the little girl and her father. Usually he couldn't find them, but some days luck pointed them out. She had grown taller and he had grown grayer. They were still love.

The swan never found a mate. He left the shallow pond and built a nest on the top of a building in the city. He bathed in fountains and attracted a bit of attention seeing as he was quite larger than the average pigeon. He became a pet to the pedestrians. They would feed him, look after him, and some would even make wishes on him. He was believed to be magical. They called him the Sage Swan, because his black eyes seemed to know that answer to all the world's questions. He knew love.