Swans and Su Tung P'o
Feb. 1st, 2004 06:52 amAt a moment of clearing sky, while the moon was yet near meridian, I heard the sound of birds -- trumpeter swans, I think -- calling from the nearby air. I could distinguish at least four overlapping calls, and at times there were too many to separate. It must have been a large flock. Their voices boomed through the night as they flew northeast, heading for the reservoir, or perhaps one of the other lakes farther up the mountains; some place where fish might leap from dark water into moonlight, shedding drops to flash in the still, cold air. I strained to see the birds as they passed overhead, sounding very close, but the light was too dim to reveal even shadowy shapes.The sound of their beating wings joined their calls for a moment, then faded, and the calls themselves faded soon after. The patches of cloud then drew together once more, and I stood earthbound in the empty silence, feeling as I might had found that a page been torn from a book, and I would now never know what was on it.
( Sunday Verse )
( Sunday Verse )