Toronto Swan

My grandfather had a goose on his farm when I was a very young kid. He called it Grey Gander. That goose chased me anytime I came near it, wings spread wide as it ran, enormous and terrifying. To this day, I look at a goose and see nothing but a mean-spirited beast, eager to bite the back of my arms with its hard, nubby beak as I flee.

This swan has that look, the beady eye of a biter. But it’s also beautiful, and as long as it keeps its distance, I’m happy to admit it.