The Golden Signet

There are few adolescent swans left along the canal now; most have left their parents, who look a little bereft after months of nurturing and fussing. I've watched them grow from tiny balls of grey down, sheltering in between their parents' folded wings, to almost fully grown swans, with just a few brown feathers here and there.
The sun was particularly beautiful this morning and gave this adolescent a golden aura as he paddled under the bridge. I couldn't capture that with my iPhone, but as he moved up stream, the sun enveloped him.