I heart swans

I didn't leave the house yesterday - a rare occurrence for me. Normally I go stir crazy after a few hours and feel compelled to go anywhere that's not here. But I had enough to do to keep myself occupied that the thought of leaving it didn't cross my mind. As I whiled the Easter hours away, I remembered to give myself a chocolate egg. 'Twere only a small thing - just a Galaxy Truffle egg - but any tradition involving the gifting of chocolate - however commercialised it may have become - is not to be taken lightly, . The egg I was given at work was already gone by that point - I'd shared it with colleagues along with another extremely large egg I got for everyone in case the first wasn't large enough. I think I ended up eating most of both of them, but people seemed to appreciate the gesture regardless.

Today, though, I just had to get outside. The weather had appeared overcast, and though I thought it was going to be another chill morning, it turned out to be by far the warmest day of the year so far (I didn't check the temperature, but I trust my judgement). A surprisingly high humidity marred the afternoon a little, but it was still a pleasant reminder that winter is past and warmer days lie ahead. I decided to go far a walk, along the banks of Thames for a little way. As I perambulated along I noticed a couple of swans, engaged in what I took to be a mating dance. It was a charming little ritual, where both swans faced each other, bobbed their heads up and down briefly, and then touched the beaks together, their necks forming a perfect heart shape. Then they rested their heads on each others necks. It was a simple gesture, but as warm and as human as any I've witnessed.

Afterwards, the swans parted company and gently drifted away from each other, occasionally casting glances backwards.