A great way to kick off the new year

I suspect most people over the age of 50 would agree that our priorities change with age. It wasn’t that long ago when I found it of importance to be wide awake and watch the clock with anticipation as we prepared to welcome a new year.

However, my mindset has changed drastically. In fact, I eventually came to the conclusion that this particular holiday is of little significance to me.

As for resolutions, they usually are made in vain. And in all reality, little change will come to my life as a result of the change of a calendar year. My responsibilities will remain, and hopefully, my passions will not falter. Hence the reason I seldom see the ball drop.

However, my wife and I decided this year would be a little different. Her clinic was closed on the following day. So we thought it might prove exciting to live big. That’s right, we were going to laze around and watch TV until that magical time when we could properly bid farewell to 2020.

But that little plan was short lived. In fact, I fell asleep, on the couch, shortly after 8 p.m. And Sandy had already gone to bed and was fast asleep when I awoke around 10:30 p.m.

I certainly did not want to wake her, so I went to another room, where I became engulfed in playing my guitar. In fact, I was so focused that I failed to recognize when the clock stuck twelve.

We arose the following morning without regrets of celebrating New Year’s Eve. We were excited, however, to enjoy the first day of 2021. Plans were to load up and embark upon a road trip to a destination to where we had never traveled.

Magness Lake is located within minutes of Heber Springs. This town is a destination where we had visited numerous times throughout the years, but this would be our first opportunity to experience this oxbow off of the Little Red River.

And why would this little section of water be of such importance? It was too cold to fish. And it bordered private land and was not a location where I could hunt.

It was however, a spot that I had heard of for several years. And I was more than eager to capture images the trumpeter swans that return to this exact spot every winter.

What little research I had done suggested that a portion of these beautiful birds flew elsewhere mid morning and didn’t return until a few hours before dark. But that was okay, as midday conditions are far from photographer friendly.

We had no intentions of crawling out of the sack during the wee hours and embarking upon a 2-hour drive to the destination, so there was no need to rush. We simply enjoyed a slowpaced morning and struck out as the clock neared noon.

Arriving at the destination, I was not surprised to see several cars at the parking area and a group of people spaced along the fence line. However, it was a good indication that swans were on the premises.

Upon rolling to a stop, I connected my largest lens to the camera body, secured the camera to my tripod and eased within inches the fence.

And there they were. Dozens of swans within sight. Although a majority of the birds were resting and browsing in the field on the opposing shoreline, several were swimming in the pond, some of which were literally within a few feet of where I stood.

They were obviously accustomed to people. They did appear to be a little leery of my tripod, though. But with time they gravitated toward me as well, lending to opportunities to fill the frame of my viewfinder.

Of course, I was totally focused on capturing images for the first half hour. But I even

tually began to watch the reactions of others as the swans swam within feet of where they were standing.

A few of the people were peering through viewfinders, others were capturing the moment on their phones and others were perfectly satisfied with oohing and aahing.

I was watching folks of all ages, from all walks of life, and with various political convictions. But that mattered not at the moment. Each and every person peering over the fence had left their differences aside and appeared content with sharing something in common.

As the evening progressed and my stomach began to growl, I pondered how some folks were sitting comfortable in their homes and partaking in peas and cabbage. But in spite of my hunger and a cold damp wind, I, too, was content. As I was witnessing the magic that happens when folks share their passion for the wonderful outdoors.