Every time I drove down I684 on my way to NYC, I would see them. Driving to my bank on Route 22 every week, they would be there. They were always there, in rain, in snow, in sunshine. Season after season, year after year. Floating in bunches of white, dotting the blue as if to punctuate their presence.
"Here we are! Over here, you silly person! We're floating and breathing and swimming in nature while you're driving on concrete in a metal box."
Ok, maybe a bit dramatic, but I have to say I'm envious of them. The swans, the ducks, all of them. Their little oasis amongst all the traffic and highways. Their little community of divers and squawkers and romantic twosomes. And I also have to admit, that I've been watching these creatures from afar for years. I'm not sure why it sometimes takes me so long to satisfy my curiosity, to stop and actually look. But I can say that I'm doing it more often these days. After this moment, I promised myself that I would listen to that little curious voice with more attention and give in to it's desires with more ease. I am truly beginning to appreciate where I live more and more.
