Sunny the Swan Swims in Circles E-Book

Kelly Johnson

• Herausgeber: Kelly Johnson
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 79

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Sunny the Swan Swims in Circles follows Sunny, a young swan who loves her pond home but struggles to swim in straight lines like the other swans. Instead, she moves in graceful, wide circles, feeling different and sometimes lonely despite her cheerful spirit and kindness. Though she tries many ways to join the synchronized swims and fit in, her unique swimming pattern persists. Over time, Sunny learns to embrace her difference, sensing that her circles hold a special meaning and that they might lead her to a wonderful discovery showing that being yourself can be a beautiful journey all its own.

Leseprobe

IMPRESSUM

Sunny the Swan Swims in Circles

Author: Kelly Johnson

© 2025 Kelly Johnson.

All rights reserved.

Author: Kelly Johnson

Contact: 903 W Woodland Ave, Kokomo, IN 46902

Email: [email protected]

Disclaimer

This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: A Swan Like No Other

Chapter 2: The Other Swans

Chapter 3: A Twirl Too Far

Chapter 4: A Lonely Lily Pad

Chapter 5: Lessons from the Lake

Chapter 6: A Secret Surprise

Chapter 7: The Spiral Dance

Chapter 8: The Pond’s New Performer

Chapter 9: Swirling with Confidence

Chapter 10: The Beauty in Her Circles

Title: Sunny the Swan Swims in Circles

Author: Kelly Johnson

Chapter 1: A Swan Like No Other

The sun rose gently over Willow Pond, its golden light spilling slowly across the water’s surface like a warm, shimmering blanket. Each ray kissed the ripples, turning them into sparkling threads of amber and honey that danced with the gentle breeze. The reeds along the shore swayed softly, their slender stalks bending in rhythm to the wind’s quiet song. Dragonflies darted and dipped through the air, their iridescent wings catching the early light as they zipped back and forth in joyous play. Somewhere near the lily pads, a lone frog’s deep croak echoed—a steady, comforting sound that filled the morning stillness like a heartbeat.

In this peaceful corner of the world, time seemed to slow. The pond held its breath in a moment of calm, where everything shimmered just a little brighter—the dew clinging to the leaves, the soft flutter of feathers, even the faint shimmer of a fish beneath the surface. It was a place of quiet wonder, where every creature had a story, and every breath of wind carried a whisper of magic.

Among the many creatures who called Willow Pond home, one young swan stood out—not for her size or the gleam of her feathers, though hers were as pure and white as freshly fallen snow, soft as clouds drifting across a spring sky—but for the sparkle in her bright, curious eyes and the gentle warmth of her spirit. Her name was Sunny.

From the very first light of dawn, Sunny was filled with joy. She loved everything about the pond—the way the cool water felt as it flowed beneath her wings, smooth and welcoming like an old friend. She loved the soft rustling of cattails as they brushed against each other in the morning breeze, and the sweet songs of the birds perched on low branches, filling the air with melodies that seemed to dance on the wind. She loved the gentle splash of frogs leaping from lily pad to lily pad, the tiny insects skimming across the water’s glassy surface, and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the leaves above.

Most of all, Sunny loved to swim.

From the moment she first dipped her webbed feet into the pond as a fluffy gray cygnet, she had felt a deep and lasting connection to the water. It was her playground, her sanctuary, and her home. She remembered the excitement of those early days—wobbly steps on soft mud, tiny paddles that sent ripples racing across the surface, and the first time she managed to glide smoothly, feeling as though she was flying on water.

As she grew, so did her love for the pond. She practiced every day, learning to move with grace and confidence, watching the reflections ripple and shimmer with every stroke. She dreamed of joining the other swans in their elegant swims, tracing perfect lines across the water like ribbons of silk, their feathers gleaming and their necks curved in proud, graceful arcs.

But there was one little thing that made Sunny different from the other swans.

While her friends could glide across the pond in long, straight, and elegant lines—moving like floating dancers in a well-rehearsed ballet—Sunny could never quite swim the same way. No matter how carefully she stretched her neck forward, held her wings just so, or tried to paddle evenly with her webbed feet, her path was never straight. Instead, she moved in big, gentle circles, wide and smooth, as if the pond itself were guiding her in a dance all her own.

At first, she thought it was a mistake, a quirk she needed to fix. She watched the other swans with admiration and a little sadness, wishing she could swim like them. She tried to follow their strokes, matching their rhythm, but always found herself looping back to where she started, tracing graceful spirals that shimmered in the sunlight.

Though the circles made her feel a little different—sometimes even lonely—there was something about them that felt peaceful and true. With each gentle turn, Sunny felt the water’s cool embrace and the wind’s soft encouragement, as if the pond was whispering a secret just for her: that every ripple, every swirl, every circle was part of a story waiting to be told.

And Sunny was ready to find out what that story might be.

Around and around she would go, her feathers catching the sunlight, her beak tilted in determined focus. She didn’t mean to go in circles—it just happened, again and again. The more she tried to swim straight, the more twirly her path became, like a lazy spiral drawn across the surface of the pond.

At first, Sunny thought it was just a phase. “Maybe I’m just young,” she told herself. “I’ll grow out of it.” But as the seasons passed and her wings grew strong, the circles stayed. The other young swans practiced swimming in formation, lining up side by side and gliding forward with perfect posture. Sunny would try to join them, but before long she’d drift off to the side, curving gracefully away without meaning to.

The other swans noticed too.

“Sunny, you’re drifting again,” called one.

“You’re messing up the line,” said another, gently but firmly. “You’re always going around and around,” whispered a third. “Why can’t you swim straight?”

Sunny never had an answer. Whenever a curious bird or an inquisitive fish asked her why she always swam in circles instead of straight lines, she would blink slowly, offering a polite, gentle smile. Sometimes her feathers would flutter nervously, and her heart would flutter too, but she never let it show too much. Instead, she’d simply shrug her wings just a little and say, “I’m not quite sure,” before paddling quietly away, ready to try again the next day.

The questions didn’t bother her as much as the puzzled looks sometimes did. When the other swans glided past in sleek, perfect lines, their reflections cutting clean streaks across the water, Sunny’s own loops and spirals felt like an odd dance no one quite understood. But even so, Sunny stayed cheerful. Her bright eyes sparkled with kindness, and her soft voice carried warmth like a cozy breeze.

She made friends in all the corners of Willow Pond. The turtles who basked on sun-warmed rocks grew to like her company, welcoming her to sit beside them and listen to their stories of ancient ponds and hidden currents. The frogs who croaked from the reeds found her easy to talk to, and she’d often share quiet moments by the water’s edge, watching tadpoles dart beneath the surface.

Sunny wasn’t just a friend—she was a helper, too. She delighted in searching the pond for soft, floating feathers the other swans had shed, gathering them gently in her beak to give to younger swans for their nests. She taught the little ducklings how to paddle steadily through the water, laughing as their tiny feet kicked up splashes and their downy bodies bobbed happily behind her. The animals loved Sunny’s gentle nature and her kind heart—even if they didn’t always understand why she swam the way she did.

But deep down inside, when the pond grew quiet and the stars came out to twinkle, Sunny sometimes wondered if something was wrong with her.

Why couldn’t she swim like everyone else?

Why did her body want to turn and curve when her mind told her to go straight?

She wondered these things as she drifted beneath the moon’s silver glow, her loops stretching across the water like shimmering ribbons. Sometimes her wings ached with the effort to hold a straight line, and sometimes she felt a pang of loneliness—watching her friends glide flawlessly while she circled softly apart.

Yet, even with those quiet questions tucked inside her heart, Sunny never gave up. Every morning she woke ready to try again, paddling into the new day with a smile that was as bright as the rising sun. She looped, she circled, she spiraled—and she smiled through it all, knowing that the pond was her home.

And the pond, in return, welcomed her.

The gentle waves embraced her twirls, the reeds whispered encouragement, and the breeze carried her laughter far across the water. No matter how many loops she made, she belonged just as much as any swan who ever floated on the lake.

And somewhere, just beneath the surface of the water, beneath the questions and the quiet hope in her heart, a new feeling began to stir.

A feeling that perhaps her circles were not mistakes.

Perhaps they were the beginning of something wonderful.