Someone once told me that animals are people under spells, and if you fall in love with them the spell will be lifted. I recently fell in love with a black trumpeter swan. I watched her ruffle her neck feathers for hours, watched her peck bugs from her breast. I was sure she would make a beautiful bride, but she was always a black trumpeter swan. I once brushed a horse’s hair for three straight years until it crumpled to death. The truth is there are no such thing as spells. The world is always as it is, and always as it seems. And love is just our own kind voice that we whisper into our own blood.
— Zachary Schomburg