This story was written along time ago to then a special someone. I accidently found it whilst I was clearing out a really old inbox that I wanted to reuse cause I am still attached to my hotmail.com email addy.... So anyways, I though this might be worth sharing, hope you enjoy.
A Tale of Two Swans
A lone swan was paddling around a loch, this loch found in the remotest gully, in the deepest province of the Scottish mountain range that spanned across the entire breadth of the country, composing of the most treacherous mountains that rose for miles and miles in to the sky. The peaks were always obscured by the clouds which formed around their waist, prevented birds from getting to close.
The high wold, an inhospitable environment which made our loch in which our lone swan inhabited, a gem. Isolated, from all bird kind. He was content in his routine. Allowed to express himself, as he saw fit with out fear of ridicule and humiliation. Similar to the type that made him flew away his home pond, to this reclusive habitat where he felt safe.
Springs lead to summers. And the surrounding valley would shine a fresh green energy from the vegetation on to the loch surface. Hectares or heather, wild linchin, lilies, and algal blooms. All manner of plant life would awaken in the sunlight. So would his own sense of self worth, and it would uncontrollingly beam out of this swan, the surrounding colours agitated by the pulsing cool light that would awaken the gully.
On a day like today, he sits out in the middle of the loch, perfectly still, staring out into infinity. He sits their reflecting a brilliant white light across the loch.
Up high, another lone swan was surfing the stratosphere, desperate for rest, for comfort, for safety. Her mind begins to wonder, in head flight, she would delve into her darkest moments. The intensity of her feelings would supress her ability to beat those powerful wings, she gradually began to fall from the heavens.
Still far away in her mind, she loses all control of her trajectory, she plummets, faster, and faster she falls, through the giant white clouds she drops, the ground below rapidly growing in size. It's the peaks of the high wold, the impervious mountain range, thousands of miles away from her origin, she shrieks a cry out into the air.
Her fear grips her, she falters, she readjusts her decent. She fails. She cracks her powerful wing on one of the peaks. Her balance and flight escape her. She continues her fall, rolling down the steep slope of the mountain. She comes crashing into the water.
As he sat their, he thought he heard a shriek of a swan in despair, he tried to find out what cause it from his position. He instinctively dismissed it as a trick of his mind brought forth by his isolation. Imagine another swan. Beautiful, and elegant. She can go paddling with him across his loch, enjoy the comfort of his home together. Again he dismissed these feelings instantly.
As he returned back to his sombre, he felt a massive disturbance on the water surface. Immediately he leaps into action. Within two fast wingbeats, he is across the water to the source, and that's where he saw her.
A fallen swan, surrounded in the thick tall grass by the loch edge, she is whimpering, her wing; it looks broken. A feeling instantly grew within out swan. Shy, he watch's her torment, for a brief second, he was scared. Then she saw him, their dark pitiless eyes locked with each other. And without thought, doubt or even impulse he drifted over to her.
She was terrified. Her ordeal left her battered broken, confused and scared. Now their was this splendid white bull, cooing towards her, instantly she felt removed from her discomfort. She was unexpectedly happy at seeing another swan. One who without question or request came and empathised with her. Genuine she thought, safe she felt. He scooped her under his wing. And sat next to her. While she recovered. No need for introductions no need to exchange formalities. She needed him, and he knew he needed her.