There!
Four this time, black against the morning sky (or perhaps simply black), with what seem like red beaks. In some formation the rules of which I do not know. 7:15am again: they must be on their way to work.
I cannot now find here the post in which I wrote of the swans that commuted from Seltjörn to Tjörnin and back, winging daily over my perch in the blokk on the west side. Did I imagine writing it? I don't think so. They were trumpeters. I am certain their descendants still wing that way, and I will look for them.
And then I will fly back.
