From Swan Lake to the Bunny Hop

Walking around my neighborhood one afternoon, I noticed a large white swan sitting in the grass near the road.

The swan was alone and not near the pond where it can typically be spotted silently floating along with the Canada Geese and ducks.

That one solitary swan reminded me of the recent news story in which four young men stole a large white swan from Frank Charles Memorial Park in Howard Beach, Queens. The teens were laughing as one guy stuffed the large swan into the back seat of their car and they drove away.

A neighbor captured the incident on cell phone video and contacted authorities. Was this a senior prank by a group of high school students with too much time on their hands? Did they plan this abduction in advance or was it a crime of opportunity?

Within 24 hours of the video being posted, the suspects were spotted two miles away by a NYC Parks worker in Forest Park. Mute swans are protected under the law. According to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, swans, their eggs and nests may not be handled or harmed. When investigators searched the vehicle, they found swan feathers but no swan.

The majestic mute swan is one of the heaviest flying birds with a wing span of 79-94 inches. The distinctive white plumage with orange and black beak identifies this breed of monogamous swans found in fresh water ponds, lakes and reservoirs. Mute swans lay four to 10 eggs with cygnets hatching between May and July. Mute swans are protective of their mate and offspring and can sometimes be seen carrying young cygnets on their backs as they serenely glide across the water. Young swans achieve the ability to fly in four to five months.

Trying to think about something more pleasant than idiots hurting defenseless animals, my mind wandered and made the association with the famous ballet, Swan Lake. Free-associating while I continued on my nature walk, I recalled many years ago when I participated in a ballet recital as a young child….

As a 4-year-old, I remember being driven to my weekly dance classes on Saturday mornings and climbing up the narrow wooden staircase to the ballet studio above the post office. My favorite part was carrying my shiny black patent leather Barbie ballet case, which held my black leotard, tights and ballet slippers. I was not a gifted dance prodigy. But I was a youngster who could follow directions and be trusted to keep a secret!

The spring dance recital was held at the Brooklyn Academy of Music on a large stage with a big auditorium. The audience was made up of parents and relatives of the little dancers in the ballet school. The ballet costumes for the youngest dancers, ages 3–5 years old, consisted of black one-piece leotards, black tights, black ballet slippers, a headband with tall white and silver sparkly bunny ears and a fluffy white tail attached to the back of our leotards.

On the day of the ballet recital, our class of tiny dancers pranced around on stage in our bunny ears, completed our routine and then dashed off the stage. My ballet teacher had chosen me for a special encore. I was told to run back out onto the stage, turn around, wiggle my white fluffy bunny tail at the audience and then scamper off stage. I still remember the laughter and applause from the surprised audience members!

Kim Kovach has not danced or scampered in years! Please visit her at www.kimkovachwrites.com.