Several months ago I wrote a post called “Swans”.
It was about the walks I take with my wife around the neighborhood pond right outside our front bay window.
You should probably read that post first.
It’s short but this post will make a bit more sense if you have time.
My shrinking faith in humankind was all but shattered yesterday morning as I read a
story in our local newspaper regarding an incident that happened right here.
I read with shock and sadness that one of the swans was found dead a week ago Sunday with an arrow through its neck.
I realize there are more serious issues pasted on the front page and this was fairly insignificant in the grand scheme of things but . . .
Who cares about a dead swan anyway?
Well, I do.
Especially when it was killed right outside my front window.
That some pathetic excuse for a human being would do something as cowardly as this has left me shaking my head.
Why would someone feel the need to do something like this?
For the sheer sport of it?
These swans bothered no one and were a joy to watch as they glided across the water, side by side.
Maybe it’s the fact that I drew something of a metaphor between the two swans and my wife and me. The literary device I used was now senselessly murdered like oh so many badly written high school essays.
I try and fool myself into thinking that most of the world embraces respect for the sanctity of life when in reality we really don’t at all.
We kill and sacrifice altogether too many things these days: the truth, overly altrusitic ideals we can never live up to, our religion, the environment, all the wildlife we can get our bloody hands on and we ultimately kill each other.
The mechanism used differs slightly but the outcome is always the same; we come away with less than what we started out with.
In my mind, I see a solitary tear fall from the eye of the remaining swan or maybe it’s just from the heavens.
It dissolves into the glassy surface of the quiet pond generating deep concentric circles of sadness that spread far beyond the reaches of the tiny shoreline.
It’s reached a special place I call home and the many people that live around me.
While the earth will continue to turn and the seasons will continue to change, I can’t help but wonder if we as human beings will ever do the same.
I can only hope.