The swan nest was flooded and broke up. I did not take my real camera out because of the rain.
The steadfast guard duck was still there when I went early in the morning to see.
The river had risen and everything floated away. The mallard was waiting for the swans where the nest had been.
It was tragic. For me, anyway. I held it together, being informed about flooding being the major cause of swan nest failure.
When I was listening to the storm at home in the night I feared the worst.
But the duck waiting there did me in. I cried in the morning rain.
I was more sad for the people near and far who were watching the swan nest, and waiting in happy anticipation for the hatchlings.
It is so sweet when strangers can gather in cheerful hope and expectancy.
We will not have baby swans here this year.
Spring will come again next year, just as sure as the sun comes up every morning.