To me there is a “wild beauty” in the lone Tundra Swan flying against the massed clouds of a gloomy Ohio day along the Erie shore, that simply lifts my spirit. (To get an idea of just how big a swan is, this is a 24mm equivalent wide angle shot, and the swan was actually on my side of the trees.)

The image was taken while at The Biggest Week in American Birding, on the “other” trail at Magee Marsh, off the boardwalk. The Crane Creek Estuary Trail, during the festival, was open all the way from Lake Erie, along Crane Creek, across the marshes, deep into Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge. During the slow days between the two waves of warblers that hit while I was there, Crane Creek Estuary Trail became very popular, as there still were a few birds happening there each day . 

If nothing else, there were swans, gulls, herons, egrets, shorebirds, and various other open water birds in the Estuary itself, and in the larger enpondments on the other side of the dyke. Tundra Swan winters in Ohio, and, of course, there are increasing numbers of the unambitious, invasive, and troublesome Mute Swans. I was happy to see, when I looked closely, that this swan is a native Tundra.

Canon SX50HS. Sports Mode. -1/3 EV exposure compensation. 24mm equivalent field of view. f5.6 @ 1/1250th @ ISO 200. Processed in Lightroom for intensity, clarity, and sharpness. A little extra attention to the sky with the healing brush set to clone to moderate a few spots where the white burned through. 

And for the Sunday Thought. I took this image several weeks ago now, and consciously set it aside for a Sunday post (and then, of course, forgot to use it until now). It is, to my eye, one of those evocative images that sets the spirit yearning for release. Not release from “this earthly coil…this too encumbering flesh”…no hint of death-wish here. Release from gravity. Release from everything and anything that keeps our spirits from cutting across the cloudy skies in beauty, from wringing every drop of significance and substance from each day. Freedom from the habits and passive acceptance of compromise that fog our days with mediocrity. A wild desire to soar, to unfurl our hidden wings, and leap into the sky to meet the future that is growing from our days. From days like this, with swans aflight against the drama of a stormy Ohio day.