The skies are infinitely gray. The darkest days of the year are upon us. We are greeted with darkness upon waking up. The light doesn’t last as long as supper. It is easy to close your eyes and sleep. But the swans beckon. In vast flocks they trample the sodden fields, honking and telling us to cheer up. “Look at all the wonderful mud!” they honk as they splash their way back and forth on big, webbed feet. We’re kinda of luckier than them. When we run through mud, we can feel it oozing between our toes. When swans waddle through mud, their webbed feet keep the mud from squishing between their toes.
