Dan's Papers - May 29, 2009 - IT'S OKAY TO COME OUT. SWAN IS NOT MAD.

One of the things I do when I go to work every day from East Hampton to Bridgehampton is monitor the goings on of the white swans in East Hampton's quarter mile long Town Pond. The Montauk Highway goes along the northern shore of the pond. James Lane, much less traveled, goes along the south shore. In the pond, there is a male and female, a handsome couple, who have staked a claim there. It's their pond, year-round.

They built a mud and twig nest two years ago along the western shore of the pond just a few feet in from where James Lane goes by. It's about nine feet around and three feet above the water. In April of 2008, the female laid eggs in the pond and upon it sat and sat and sat for the appropriate six weeks, as the male fended off rubbernecking drivers and passengers by flapping his wings, running up to the cars and pecking at them.

Then the eggs hatched, there were babies, and it was a whole different matter.

I wasn't quite as aware of the goings on with these two last spring, but because the nest remained, just sitting there unused all winter, I began to pay much closer attention to everything this spring.

When the two swans once again got interested in the nest in March, patching it up here and there with various bits of mud and sticks, it became apparent to me they were getting ready for another big day when mama would again climb aboard.

The pond is populated by various other creatures, of course, turtles, mallard ducks, egrets and other assorted wildlife that come and go. All of them, I might add, gave the nest a wide berth once the female was up there in deference to the potential wrath of the father. Humans, on the other hand, did not.

Two signs went up along the James Lane side of the pond, one on the shore facing north, the other on the shore facing south. Motorists from both directions could see the message. FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY, PLEASE STAY A GOOD DISTANCE FROM THE SWANS.

This sign was not a village sign. No mayor or village council had voted to put that sign there. It was put up by some private citizens, fully aware of the ineptitude of their fellow homo sapiens, and, of course, allowed to remain there by the town. In any case, it was widely ignored because some of the humans still wanted to see the male fluff up and chase them, flapping madly as it came out of the pond and over to their cars to peck at them until his pecking drove them off.

I would go down James Lane to see all the goings on too. I was not of a mind to bait the male swan, but on one occasion, when he had come up to peck at a Buick that had gotten too close, I pulled in behind it to wait my turn with the swan, much like one might wait one's turn at a car wash.

Swan pecks make no dent, but they do make a hammering sound on the side of the car, which puts one in mind of scads of money departing your wallet. On later inspection, however, it is found that there are only little streaks in the car where the swan has pecked, easily removed with a cloth. They are, I thought when I first saw them, signs of respectful combat. I rubbed off one, but left the rest as a mark of valor, I suppose, or stupidity, or of helping the swan get rid of his anger or on behalf of humanity defending the sanctity of the pavement of James Lane.

Two weeks ago on Thursday, I saw a line of cars on the James Lane side by the nest. It was about noon. I drove along and parked on the other side of the lane. The signs were still up, but the people about were now more venturesome, going down to the water's edge to look closely at the nest, which, at this point, had nothing in it but cracked egg shells.

At the foot of the nest was mama swan with her baby chicks. The mama was on one side, the papa on the other, hemming them in, looking down at them, sort of gathering them together in a fluffy yellow melee of splashing little bits of new life.

"When did this happen?" I asked somebody.

"Early this morning."

The male swan seemed at peace with the world. He looked so proud. I took out my camera and began to take some pictures.

As I did, however, I heard the murmuring of the crowd. The male was fluffing up, preparing to attack. I joined everybody else making a run for it, and got out of there unscathed only because I had parked across the way and the male had to deal with a Honda that was parked on the other side of the street.

I had at first thought that day that the signs, still up, were perhaps up because the person who had put them up had not yet noticed the new state of affairs. But after the assault, I thought whoever put them up knew more about male swan behavior than the rest of us.

It's now been a week since the swans have been born. I still go by there twice a day, off to work and back from work. And the situation has slowly evolved.

In the first two days, the two adults showed their little brood everything to be seen near to the nest. They weren't climbing up into the nest at night or anything. But they'd hang around close to it night and day. The signs stayed up.

A day later, I noticed that this little squadron, with the mom on one side and the pop on the other, were venturing farther out into the pond to show the kids more things. Once I saw them by the reeds on the James Lane side, halfway down to the far end of the pond, with the seven little chicks splashing about in an opening, bathing themselves while their parents watched. On another day, I saw them in the middle of the pond, the chicks no longer in the protective embrace of the two swans but swimming about on their own a few yards from them.

Still another time, coming down the Montauk Highway side, I saw no swans whatsoever. I was alarmed. Had somebody come by and seized them? Had there been complaints from someone that he was going to sue the Village because of a peck and the authorities had gathered up the swans and moved them out of town?

I didn't call anybody when I saw that situation although I thought about it. I did think I would await developments. The next time I passed the pond, I found the family picnicking in the grass on the eastern shore of the pond. I came to the conclusion I had just not been looking the right way the last time I'd gone by.

Yesterday, with the swan family paddling about in the middle of the pond and the little chicks looking noticeably bigger and plumper, I also saw that the signs were gone. Clearly, papa's angry days were behind him. He was now his usual peaceful self, proud of his family and only getting a bit stirred up if somebody provoked him or his family up close and personal.

Now, we can watch the kids grow. If we only can get these guys to pose for photographs all lined up in a row facing the camera. Would that be too much to ask?