Two residents of Maryland's Eastern Shore celebrate one of our largest native migrating water birds, following a flock from their winter in the marshes of the Chesapeake Bay to their breeding ground in Alaska's North Slope in May and then to the Dakotas, where they feed in September. Some of Harp's photos are arrestingly lovely, especially a double spread of gliding swans touched with gold at sunset. Horton's text can be excessive (""So pure and white in the unfiltered light of high altitude, they could have been a band of angels, dipped down from heaven, he thought""). Drama is added in the guise of a young hunter determined to bag a swan for his trophy case. Sentimental but appealing, a book that may be useful for stimulating discussion on the environment.