It was a cold winter day, a subtle ray of sunshine sneaked into the pond through the light fog. A swan was doing its cleaning routine, as always with elegant movements. Tall and white.
All the other inhabitants of the water left him enough space to move without disturbances. He was the king of the place. But when he tried to get out to the sky, he couldn’t take flight.
He was a prisoner in his little kingdom of green water. So majestic and so weak. I felt sorry for him.
I don’t know what they do to these swans to make them stay in the pond, but it is not fair. They belong to the skies, to explore new lands and distant lakes. They deserve to be free.