When I was a young child we went on a family vacation to Nantucket. One of our outings entailed being awakened before dawn to go early morning fishing in the fog. Embedded in my memory was the quiet stillness that seemed to permeated the heavy mist. We whispered because normal volume felt like a violent shout. The fog embraced us. It was so peaceful...so calm...so quiet...so still. We didn’t encounter any swans, but to me they radiate serenity and beauty. They needed to be included. From the outset I did not want the swans to be shades of white and grey, but blues, greens and yellows.