SO, one time when I was a lot younger, our family was coming back from fishing in Valdez. We stopped by a large pond where a bunch of Trumpeter Swans were hanging out. A beaver had built a damn holding up the water about five feet before it dropped down into a culvert that went under the road. Down in the little alcove that was formed between the damn and the culvert, a baby Trumpeter was stuck paddling for dear life, trying not to be sucked under the road. My dad went a got a big net from our boat, and attempted scoop the chick up. (The chick, by the way, was about the size of a large goose.) Well, that thoroughly pissed its mother off. She came flying across the pond at full speed towards my dad, who was desperately trying to untangle the chick from the net. The mother was flapping her six or seven foot wingspan and kicking like crazy at my dad. My mom was screaming as she taped the whole thing. All as I know is that swans are very beautiful, but they’re pretty scary when they’re pissed. Eventually, my dad freed the chick, and the mom halted her attack. I guess it’s one of those things that you would of had to be there to truly appreciate, but it’s a fond memory in my head.