When I was little, we would go to the Volkswagen offices and feed the swans at the pond.

Or were they geese? Or ducks?

I can't remember.

We'd take a lot of white bread to the pond and crumble it up and toss it in the water.

It would float until a swan would swim over to it and gobble it up.

Repeat that for a half an hour, with occasional swans swimming around each other trying to get the bread.

No fights, though. They all worked it out somehow in swan-talk.

My brother and I, though, we fought like hell for the last of the bread to throw.

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