The Swan and the Oystercatcher

A thank you to Liz who won’t remember now but helped me edit this a good few years ago 

On an island, on a lake, live a swan and an oystercatcher. You wouldn’t have thought that such a pair would get along, a bird of the sea and a bird of the lake, but they appear very happy together. Occasionally the oystercatcher will flutter off in search of worms or the swan will glide around the lake looking for tasty plants in the water, but otherwise they stay together on their little island. However, this lake is unusual, as far as lakes go, as by the lake are three tiny Kutīs. These huts provide a place for the monks who live in the monastery nearby to retreat into mediation and contemplation. This short dialogue was inspired by the birds on the lake and the Buddhist teachings of the monastery.

The saffron, robed monk sat outside the Kutī, cross legged on the decking, facing out towards the island. He was deep in meditation, his mind calm like the waters, his body still, unmoving.

On the island, as always, were the oystercatcher and swan. “What do you think he’s doing?” chirped the oystercatcher as he stared out from the little island in the middle of the lake.

“Who?” mumbled the swan, his head buried cosily in his great white feathers.

“Him! The one sitting so still over there in robes the colour of my beak.” He thought for a second and then blurted “Do you think he’s fishing like the heron who waits so still on the riverbank?”

The swan slowly lifted up his elegant neck and peered towards the lakeside. “I don’t think so Oystercatcher” He replied in a knowing tone “You don’t see him diving gracefully into the water with a long pointed beak. Anyway he’s saffron coloured, have you ever seen a saffron Heron?”

“I suppose not, but still it is a strange sight is it not, he is so still”

It is a strange sight to see an oystercatcher so far from the sea, the Swan thought to himself.

“I must discover what he is doing” proclaimed the Oystercatcher.

“and how do you propose to do that?” replied the Swan.

“I shall ask him, of course”

“Silly oystercatcher, he is a human, birds and humans cannot understand each other, you know that”

“Well then I shall ask all of the birds of the lake” the oystercatcher suggested, a little hurt by the swan’s response, “do you know who this man is and what he is doing?”

“I think even if you did this for as long as you shall live you would never find a bird on the lake who knows the answer for certain”

“Fine, I will consult all the bird books, surely some wise old owl has written down the answer somewhere”

All the owls I’ve met have been pretty ignorant, mused the swan. “Bird books are all about where the best place is to get worms, or catching fish, or how get old ladies to feed you bread. No bird knows for sure why humans behave in the ways that they do.”

“But I must know” insisted the Oystercatcher, “I must”

“I once felt you as you did” confessed the swan “First I tried to ask the humans but they could not understand my language. Then I asked each and every bird on the lake, many gave me such certain answers but not one really knew for sure. Then I consulted all the bird books I could find but they never proved conclusively what they claimed with such certainty. Eventually I realised we may come to many different conclusions but we will never know for sure”

“But that’s impossible” squealed the Oystercatcher, “How do you sit here on the island all day so calm and serene knowing that you will never find the answer?”

The oystercatcher thought deeply for a minute, no mean feat for an oystercatcher. Slowly but surely, he came to a realisation.

The swan lowered his neck and buried it in his great white feathers.