One morning on our recent Viking cruise on the Rhine, we woke up at mooring near Breisach, Germany and found ourselves surrounded by swans.
Well, not just swans: a duck was among them, instantly reminding me of the story of The Ugly Duckling.
I routinely stand accused of being fascinated by birds, and I am quick to photograph them, although I’m no birdwatcher, and can barely tell any of the songbirds apart from each other.
Still, there’s something about a swan, an elegance that persists even when you can see their ungainly feet and knobby heads. Even when you see them in huge bulk as we did a few years ago at the Abbotsbury Swannery in England.
As for the duck, who seemed to me (and perhaps to the swans) just one of the crowd—well, no beauty, and possibly had been an ugly duckling when he was a duckling.
They seemed to have a real attachment to the ship, sailing close to it, and even turning occasionally to the click of my shutter. I thought that perhaps they had become accustomed to handouts near the dock, but none were offered and no one squawked.
Eventually, we went off to breakfast; when we returned only a couple of them were in view, and they soon paddled off.
Perhaps they had an appointment to put on their show at another pier, another town…
