The swans have entered another phase of life: moulting. Unlike most other birds, ducks, geese and swans lose all their flight feathers at once, rendering them flightless for a period. And I am capitalizing on this by collecting some of their majestic, sword-like feathers that they leave behind.
Feathers grow from follicles in the skin (like hair) and the growth of a new feather from the bottom of the follicle pushes the old one out. A comparison of feather wear shows that dark colored feathers wear out more slowly than white ones.

The swans have relocated from their nesting ground, spending more time across the lake by the ice skating rink. In some ways it's more private. The babies use the boat ramp for easy water access.

There's another mute swan family in the park! Three weeks before "my" cygnets hatched, this other couple, who live by the boathouse, had three cygnets of their own. I set off to find them. It took a couple attempts, but sure enough, here they were feasting on the abundant aquatic plants known as duck weed — no this isn't slime, or algae.
More Mute Swan Facts
Swans are the largest known flying bird
►The adult male is called a cob. He is the only known bird to have a penis.
►He has been known to use a blow from the “knucklebone” of his wing to defend his family.
►Swans can fly as fast as 50 to 60 miles per hour
►Some have a wing span of 10 feet
►A baby swan or cygnet has a grey feathered coat until it reaches about 20 pounds. Then it too will become snowy white like its parents.
►A baby swan pecks at the inside of the egg for 24 hours prior to making its entrance
►The female swan is referred to as a pen

Everyone wanted to get a look at the newcomers: the herons, turtles, egrets, geese, squirrels, fishermen.

I'll admit I've been dependent on the swans. And all the other water fowl cruising through the park. Since getting laid off from my regular gig, I've been in the park next to the nest everyday. No exceptions. Rain or shine. They've given me a schedule. A purpose. A routine.

And finally the moment I'd been waiting for was here. Faith in nature. With so much up in the air lately, with jobs, government, world events, here was something that I could count on. These eggs would hatch. If I showed up everyday, eventually there would be new life. And now so much whirled through my head, when a black crested night heron flew by from "goose island" over to the next island. Then another. And another?! Three night herons. Never before had I seen more than one.

Some Mute Swan Facts

► Swans mates for life.
► The knob at the base of the male's upper bill is larger than the female's knob.
► A mute swan’s neck has 23 vertebrae, more than any other bird.
► Swans begin to breed between 3 and 4 years of age.
► They lay from 5 to 10 eggs that take from 35 to 42 days to hatch. The female does most of the egg incubation, but every now and then the male will replace her for a while.
► The babies are called cygnets and are usually pale gray with gray legs that turn black as they grow.

I was later than usual going into the park the day the eggs hatched. I walked along the inside path to the nesting area and along the way I ran across the geese and their young who were getting very big. As I rounded the final stretch, I could see the male swan off to the right. As I moved to the edge of the lake and let my eyes travel to the female on the nest, I could see four small furry golf-blall-sized heads with dark grey beaks sitting in front of mom. I was so excited. Luckily I already had my camera out since I'd seen the goslings. I was able to get a few shots off before a huge white wing swept them beneath it.

The fact that this swan's nest is out in the open, visible to the throngs of visitors, makes it feel even more fragile than if it were tucked away, hidden from view. Over Memorial Day weekend, I made brief appearances, just to check on the swans' well-being. On one of these forays, I heard a young boy say: "let's throw a rock at her." This of course was one of my biggest fears. Luckily, the girl with him said NO! And I left reluctantly knowing I cannot police the nest 24/7.

Swans are powerful birds, they bite, and their wings can break your arm. Swans display aggression by lowering their neck, hissing, and rushing at you. They protect their territories from strangers and other swans, and are more aggressive during the nesting season because they need to protect their nest, eggs and babies.

The male swan isn't around right now. After awhile, I see him way off by the gazebo by the gingkos—looking for a handout no doubt, of stale bread from people who don't know any better than to feed bread to birds, ducks, geese and swans. Some birds can develop a condition known as Angel wing which is the result of improper nutrition. Bread can cause vitamin and mineral deficiencies that contribute to this developmental disorder.
These Prospect Park Swans have plenty of aquatic vegetation and insects, even tiny fish and tadpoles to eat.

The nest that the two swans built sits about 20 feet from the edge of the 80-acre lake and only about 10 feet from the small island that the Canadian geese dominate.
The geese already have their goslings with them. Yesterday I counted about 40 which makes me feel good since I had discovered a dead little yellow gosling on the grassy edge of the lake. I suspect only one culprit: the male swan. Protective and powerful, he swims vigilante-style around his mate, chasing off any goose that dare to come close to his brood.

The days roll into weeks, and it feels as though everyone is watching the regal swan. Turtles, egrets, night herons, ducks and geese. Yesterday I saw a gigantic carp swimming along the surface. Is it possible that he's waiting too?


After it rains, the water level in the lake rises and I worry about the eggs. I worry that they'll get cold. I worry about all the garbage and debris that float by the nest. Plastic bags, deflated balloons, bottles, cans, cartons It's a heart-break to see this regal bird surrounded by crap. Orange plastic something, a purple & yellow super-soaker water pistol, yards of fishing line. The female doesn't seem to mind however. She sits peacefully on her throne. (BTW, I do daily litter control during visits... I try to focus on plastic. If I can keep one plastic bag out of the lake a day, that's something.)

She may be the main act right now, but the supporting cast is just as fantastic. When I come out to check on her, I look in the trees on the mini-island for the long yellow legs that belong to the resident night heron.

It's day 30 and I'm doubting that the incubation period for swan eggs is 35-40 days for the cygnets to hatch.
The female mute swan has been the ideal parent so far, sitting on the nest that she and her mate have built out of reeds. Rain or shine. Neither Memorial day traffic of picnickers nor the Brooklyn half-marathon that ran by have kept her from her duty to guard and warm her eggs. "She must be so bored." said a retiree a few days ago. And I'm thinking, "do animals get bored?"

Sometimes the female swan will lift herself up and turn clockwise, just a few degrees at a time, digging her orange beak inside the nest, checking on her eggs.

Even though today I sit on a fallen tree just above the nest, I see nothing. No glimpse of a shell. She wiggles her tail feathers and sits back down. Next, she preens her chest feathers, occasionally pushing a few into the moist, reedy nest.