Swans…. I thought I had left my beautiful swans behind floating serenely on the canals of my Brugge home. I often peek out the Begijnhof doors to watch the Swans…sleeping, their heads tucked under their wings or gracefully swimming avoiding the tourist boats. They preen, nibble, and forage on the grass outside the Begijnhof walls. But no…. American swans, their cousins, must have known I was coming and would miss my lovely white birds. Swans are lovelier in looks than in temperament but no matter. I take care of an older woman whose home is on one of the Cape Cod’s many fresh water kettle ponds lying between the coastlines of the Atlantic ocean and the Cape Cod Bay. The home has a spectacular view and a pair of swans make their home on the scrub pine covered shoreline somewhat protected by the dense tree cover along the shore of the pond. The lady loves to watch the swans and every year there remain two swans, whether the babies stay and Mom and Dad move away or vice versa, but the population is stable at two. This lady has a grandchild who thought playing with the swans was an amusement until one day the swans had had enough and chased the boy up the dirt path in determined search of protection from his mother. The glimpse of the American swans on the sun-sparkled water comforted my Brugge memories.