Swanpool is an actual place, and this beautiful lake is a perfect place to feed ducks, geese and swans in the fresh outdoor air.
The water shimmered with the soft golden light of the approaching dusk as the small black shapes of the many foraging ducks sent ripples across the broad surface of the lake. The sun dipped lower and lower and the moon appeared, a faded pearly blotch in the blue.
Willowy clouds drifted gracefully across the darkening sky as the last of the parkgoers left, filing out of the iron-wrought gates in twos and threes.
Finally, the swans could emerge, gliding out from behind the reeds, their arched necks held high, their wings folded behind them so that their white feathers billowed like the sails on a boat. A particularly large female, her serrated beak aloft like a sword, swam elegantly across the water, then clambered onto the bank in a rather ungainly manner.
Shaking herself out and spraying droplets of water everywhere, she dug her bill into the surrounding mud and grass, searching for any dropped pieces of food.
As the moon became crisper and clearer in the now navy sky, she abandoned her search and slid regally into the water once more, vanishing among the rushes so that the only sight or sound was a lone fox, out in the park after dark.