38 - 2/28/11 - Marshside Storytime IV

Initial Impressions

Christopher Setterlund

38 – 2/28/11

Marshside Storytime IV – Swans

          Swans are one of the most beautiful birds.  They are so majestic as you watch them gracefully swim across a pond from a safe distance.  I say from a safe distance because up close swans are much different.  They are two sides of the same coin and are the subject of this Marshside Storytime.

            Being a restaurant on a marsh it is quite common to see one or several swans swimming around in the marsh river or closer to shore when the tide is high.  Unfortunately some of us who have worked at the Marsh have been guilty of feeding the swans which only made them come closer and made them hungrier. 

            If we were not there to feed the swans there would be times when the swans would come to us.  I can remember on more than one occasion seeing a four-foot tall white shape waddling its way up the small hill from the marsh to the land.  These swans had only one thing on their minds and heaven help you if you did not have it.  Sure, I am making the swans sound evil, but you tell me how you’d react when a large hungry bird began hissing at you and opening its wings to a span of about six-feet across.

            The only thing scarier than being approached by a large hungry swan in the daylight is having it happen when it is dark.  This has happened before, back when the restaurant used to serve breakfast and we would have to be in at 6am.  The dumpster area as well as the deck was surrounded by a seven-foot fence with an opening about three-feet wide to enter through.  Anything not in front of that opening would be invisible.  The shock of a lifetime came for my Dad, Jack, when he came in early one morning and rounded that corner in the milky dawn startling a swan that had been searching for something to eat.  Needless to say the swan raised up, hissed, and opened its wings.  My Dad had to get the hell out of there until the swan got sick of acting tough.

            There was another incident involving a swan during the winter time.  This time however my Dad was prepared.  When the swan waddled up from the marsh and began hissing and getting tough my Dad sprung into action.  He had been shoveling away the snow around the deck area before anyone else came in.  When the swan hissed he was met with a heaping shovelful of snow.  This knocked him back but not out.  The swan came back and was met with more snow, this time knocking him tumbling back down into the marsh and ending his thirst for a fight.  This is not to mention the times that there was nobody there to stop the swans and they would venture out into the parking lot and hiss at and chase after unsuspecting customers.  Nobody ever got hurt, at least not enough to yell at us for siccing our rabid swans on them.

            Perhaps the most well known swan story, and one of the most famous Marsh tales period involves a perfect storm.  The old Marsh had a porch section with amazing views, which is why they were always the tables to fill up first.  The customers loved watching the wildlife do their thing while they ate.  They especially loved the beautiful swans.

            On this occasion it was a summer night, still light out as the people ate just after 6pm.  They watched with glee as the swans swam over in the marsh river.  It was a perfect night for these customers.  That all came to an end when the swans took off to go find a different spot to hang out.  You’d think that in their lifetimes that the swan elders would tell the younger ones the things to avoid.  You know things like the power lines.

            One swan apparently had not gotten the memo.  It flew directly into the power lines causing a bright bunch of sparks which resulted in the power going out at the restaurant.  Oh, the horror for the people as they remarked how graceful the swans flew before one stupid one decided to give the people nightmares.

            The only thing worse than that was the removal of the cooked swan.  That job fell to Remi who had to don a pair of gloves and walk over the section of street where the swan lay smoldering and stuff it into a black garbage bag.  Contrary to popular opinion the swan was not used for any sort of special, it was deposited in the dumpster. 

            That idiot swan probably did not die in vain though, in the nearly 12 years since that incident no swan has ever even come close to the power lines.  Well, since the new restaurant opened the lines are underground, but you get the point.  Cheers! 

Beautiful, or evil?