The good news is, the cygnets began hatching May 9. There were signs before May 9 that Pen’s long siesta would soon be over because Cob was spending a lot of time near the nest and Pen was craning her neck to listen to what was going on inside the eggs. I think the message she was hearing was “Here we come, ready or not”. On May l0, the first grey, fuzzy cygnet was standing up and looking around at his new, wondrous world. The next day, six more had joined him. Wouldn’t you know, the weather turned cold and rainy and the cygnets wanted to climb back into their broken shells, but Pen was already eating them to restore her lost minerals. And so, the group of nine swans took off for that huge weed bed that comprises a goodly portion of Greenook Lake and provides them with food but also provides large snapping turtles with excellent cover.
Now the bad news, in a month’s time the seven cygnets became three. I blame the snapping turtles because they are big and ugly and that always means villainous. I could be sure if I visited the weed bed and found decaying carcasses but what’s the point? It would only make me sad. I like to think they boarded the Dixie Queen and floated off to cygnet heaven.
The same thing happened last year and losing over 50% in rapid succession is a shame. One day, as I watched, Pen and Cob rose up in a flurry and fled the weed bed. When they got clear of it they turned and urged the cygnets to turn it up a notch and they scooted away from whatever alarmed their parents. It must have been Greenook’s version of the Loch Ness Monster.
Unfortunately, that weed bed did not get dredged when the lake was empty, in fact it became better with months of full sun. It became a full blown pasture-reminiscent of its past.. In the twenties and all the years before, that was a field of grazing cows. Now it is still a field but of grazing turtles.
I hope we can find a way to subdue its vegetation so that it still provides food for swans, protection for fish but not such a wonderful haven for predators.