Nov 09 2007
Any day now tundra swans will move through western Pennsylvania on their way south to the Chesapeake. A flock usually flies over my house at night in early November. I know they’re overhead when I hear them calling as they fly, a “woo-ing” sound that, to me, resembles the voices of children playing in the distance. If I’m lucky, I’m already outdoors and can see them illuminated from below by the city lights. Otherwise I race for the door, burst outside in the dark – and usually miss them.
Tundra swans hold a particular fascination for me, partly because they rarely spend any time near Pittsburgh. Those seen here in the fall generally spend the summer breeding in Canada’s Northwest Territory and Alaska’s North Slope. In autumn they fly south and east across Canada, the Great Lakes and Pennsylvania, destined for Chesapeake Bay and North Carolina – a journey that covers 3,600 miles and takes about 12 weeks.
I will never forget the time I watched a flock of tundra swans land at dusk on Yellow Creek Lake in Indiana County. I was sitting in the Waterfowl Observatory blind, unable to see the sky. Snow had started falling when I heard the voices of swans overhead. As they came into view they circled once, then one after the other they cupped their wings and landed in a gliding V on the lake. What a beautiful thing.