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Tanner   Loren                               

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    Across the quiet expanse of the northern lake, two trumpeter swans move as though guided by the same heartbeat.
    Their snowy plumage gleams in the early light, each stroke of their wings a mirror of the other’s — graceful, certain, and timeless. For years, they have returned to this same stretch of water, a bond unbroken by distance or storm.

     When they draw near, their long necks curve gently together, forming a fleeting heart upon the mirrored surface below — a symbol as ancient as the species itself. Their low, resonant calls roll across the still air, not of warning or defense, but of devotion — a duet that speaks of faithfulness and trust.