Drifting with quiet elegance along the gentle current of the Bow River, an American white pelican glides past the leafy banks of Carburn Park like a living sailboat carved from light. Its broad white body rides low on the water, perfectly buoyant, while its long bill rests calmly against its chest, giving it an air of unhurried confidence. The river carries it downstream at a leisurely pace, ripples fanning outward in delicate rings that shimmer under the sun. Each subtle movement of its webbed feet sends barely visible pulses through the surface, as if the bird is steering with invisible threads rather than effort. The pelican’s snowy plumage glows against the darker reflections of trees and sky, turning it into a bright focal point within the tranquil riverscape. Along the distant shoreline, the soft outline of Calgary feels worlds away, its presence hinted only by faint sounds swallowed by wind and water. Now and then the pelican tilts its head, scanning the depths with patient precision, embodying the calm assurance of a seasoned traveler on a familiar route. The current continues its steady pull, guiding bird and reflection alike through shifting patches of light and shadow. In that peaceful passage, the pelican becomes part of the river’s rhythm itself—a graceful traveler borne by the flow, serene and untroubled, drifting through a moment where wilderness and stillness exist in perfect harmony.