Swans – like us – just don’t know what’s good for them

There’s a war on, feathers are flying and it’s happening right under my balcony. Siblings are battling it out, fathers are chasing off sons, and mothers are having a go at any stranger wandering by.

Heads are being held under water, bottoms are being nipped and blood drawn. Yes, the swans are vying for supremacy on my reach of the Avon.

They all got along fine for a bit, three generations paddling elegantly by and adding value to my property.

There was one grumpy one, the eldest male, who wanted first dibs at anything thrown their way. But now they’ve all learnt the aggressive wings up pose, like 15 bad taste vases circling and then going in for the attack, churning the water and even indulging in some inflight peckery.

Something’s got to give. I agree with dad. It’s time the teenagers from last year left home.

Off to college at Chew Valley Lake, or a gap year down on Sedgemoor.

And I did say 15. That’s the most I’ve seen in Bath for years.

I’m spending a fortune on vitamin-enriched, high-fibre floating eco swan food.

Yes, such a product does exist. There’s a big sack of it in my bedroom, emblazoned with the byline: “Become the most popular person in the park!” I’ve certainly become the most popular person along this section of the towpath. I only have to twitch my curtains and the troops line up.

If I get up in the night, two or three white blobs immediately glide out of the darkness and peer expectantly up at my window.

And no, I don’t feed them from my balcony in my underpants in the wee small hours. Apologies for that image by the way!

I am the swans’ bestest buddy. That is until the dreaded white bread arrives.

White bread is bad for swans. It bungs them up. It has no roughage and none of the nutrients they require. But like us, there’s nothing they love more than a soggy lump of Wonderloaf!

My expensive wholegrain luxury gourmet feed is totally forgotten at the faintest rustle of a sliced bread wrapper.

They go mad for it! Off they go across the river like 15 pedalos, vase wings akimbo and ready to fight to the death for a morsel of the white stuff.

There’s a woman in Newbury who every night leads about 50 swans along the river from the town centre to what she thinks is a safe night-time retreat by the park.

I imagine she uses the same posh food that I do to lure them to their secure roost.

After the lady has gone home, no doubt all aglow at what she has done for the wildlife, you’ll see the swans all creep back, paddling silently in a long line, heading for the riverside pubs.

For pubs mean white bread, crisps and even the odd bit of pork pie. Which to swans is the perfect night out on the town!

Ralph Oswick was artistic director of Natural Theatre for 45 years and is now an active patron of Bath Comedy Festival