The Man and the Swans

(DE) It was a hot summer, and I went almost every day to swim at the quarry pond.

The lake is hidden in a forest and yet easily accessible. It is best to park the car at the edge of the busy main road. After crossing it, turn right into a forest path. Immediately, the shade of the tall spruces and firs envelops you in a soothing silence. The fresh scent of the trees and the cheerful chirping of birds makes me breathe deeply. Every time I come here, I am filled with deep gratitude.

After only a few hundred meters, you can see the deep blue of the water glistening on your right. The gravel plant that used to be located here has long since become unprofitable. The iron winding towers had long since been dismantled, and the gravel piles were removed over time. What remained was a large, coarse sandy beach that nature gradually reclaimed.

The lake spreads out at its full length and beauty in front of the spacious place heated by the sun. Here mainly families and retired couples settle down, equipped with sunbeds, umbrellas and filled picnic baskets.

I, however, strove toward the wooded northern shore, past small bays where anglers had moored their colourful wooden boats, past pink-blossoming water lily carpets and spots overgrown with dense reeds where frogs hide but give themselves away by their loud croaking.

A narrow path leads through the forest along the shore. Sometimes I stopped to let the beauty of this spot affect me.

A pair of swans proudly and majestically made their circles in the middle of the lake. The warning chirp of a great crested grebe mingled with the tangle of different bird calls and the buzzing of insects. In the distance, I heard the call of a cuckoo. Large iridescent blue dragonflies danced in the sun, diving into the water again and again. Dry leaves rustled under my footsteps; although I had walked this path countless times before, I kept discovering new things. It seemed as if someone hovering over everything was thinking about how to surprise and delight me every day. A wide variety of flowers, grasses, ferns, mushrooms, fruits and fragrances caused an almost childlike amazement at every moment.

After about a quarter of an hour, I turned right into an even narrower path surrounded by bushes and undergrowth, which led to a small peninsula. Most of the time, I settled here.

This place had been the secret tip for nude bathers many years ago. In the meantime, many nature lovers have discovered it for themselves, and over the years, a colourful crowd has gathered that regularly comes here. They know each other, at least by sight. Friendships have developed with some of them, and they know each other's fates and life stories. They had seen each other grow old and learned about their preferences and vulnerabilities.

One meets each other friendly and respectfully. You greet one another and otherwise leave one another alone. You can always find entertainment if you feel like it. That, too, was the magic of this place.

On one of those afternoons, I noticed a man I had never seen here before. He pushed his bicycle through the bushes, carefully locking it up and rolling out a narrow mat next to it. He was of medium height and relatively slim. I had difficulty guessing his age because he wore a big floppy hat that almost completely hid his face. Naturally and unabashedly, he took off his clothes and put them in the saddlebags. Somehow he seemed introverted and aloof. I took no further notice of him and turned back to my book.

When I looked up again, I saw a pair of swans waddling to the shore. They had lost their young. A few weeks ago, they had always had three of them in tow. It had been a pleasure to watch as a whistle from the worried parents was enough to call them to order. But, despite their best efforts, perhaps they had fallen victim to a fox.

In any case, it was better not to get too close to them. I had once observed them hissing and flapping their wings wide open, threatening a boy who had invaded their territory.

In the shallow water, they began to preen themselves extensively. Then, disregarding the bathers, they set about foraging on the tufts of grass along the shore.

They were magnificent animals that almost reached my size when they stretched their necks. Even in the water, I preferred not to encounter them and swam briskly to shore when they approached. Everyone here knew it was wiser to stay out of their way and keep a distance. Usually, after a while, they would leave of their own accord - not without first putting a considerable green pile on the sand. Usually, they stood on their high, strong legs in the shallow shore water for a while and looked around. It seemed as if they arranged themselves with a strange whistling in which direction their journey should go.

That afternoon I saw the strange man walking towards the pair of swans. He had taken off his floppy hat and tied his long silvery hair into a ponytail at the top of his head. His nose was covered with a thick layer of white sunblock. From behind, his body looked graceful, like a woman's.

It was an absurd sight of incredible beauty, etched in my memory like a painting by a surrealist painter.

The other bathers were now also watching the stranger approaching the swans. Step by step. Slowly and deliberately. "Is he crazy - what is he doing there?" a woman shook her head. A murmur became audible, and everyone was now looking at him anxiously - waiting to see what would happen. He was now already between the swans. The air was still, and nothing happened. Nothing threatening, anyway. The pair of swans turned their heads towards him - a bit astonished. When he took a few more steps between them into the deeper water and began to swim, they flanked him like their young had done before and swam alongside him. One on the left, one on the right.

The sun was high by now, casting a glistening streak across the lake. As if spellbound, I watched as the man and the swans moved toward this strip in the glittering water, only to dissolve in the glare of the sun. Dazzled, I had to close my eyes. I let myself sink back onto my blue blanket to let this almost magical moment seep into my memory, stretched extensively and enjoyed the warmth on my skin. I felt light and happy.

After quite a while, I saw the man wading back to shore, breathing deeply with an utterly relaxed expression. He pulled his mat further into the sun and settled on it. He turned his back to me. He rested his head on his bent arm and looked pensively out at the water. Drops of water glistened like glass beads on his shoulder and hip before running in little rivulets over his skin.

It was hard for me to take my eyes off him.

I would have loved to walk over to him and nestle my sun-warmed body against his back. Instead, I got up and went into the water. In long strokes, I swam to the middle of the lake. The swans had disappeared. I drifted on the surface of the water for a while before swimming back to shore.

The man had disappeared. A few white swan feathers were stuck in the grass, all fluffy and soft. I bent down and picked them up.

(ML)