As the year ends and the ice swells,
The swans gather where the creeks meet the lakes.
Only small patches of open water now,
Steam rising and crystallizing around the shrinking waves.
The ice is too rotten for humans to travel and too thick for the swans to penetrate
In this moment, the swans triumph, the lake theirs alone.
A short victory-
The swans swim in circles,
Ignoring the closing ice.
The persistence of life in inhospitable environments always fascinates me.