The haunting cry of a loon

A while ago, I posted this beautiful shot by friend Mike of a loon sitting on its nest... notice how close it is to the water's edge? This cause problems for loons who try to nest on lakes and rivers where seadoos and similar small water craft go too close to shorelines at high speeds. The wash from their wakes often damages or totally destroys loon nests or harms babies.

 Fortunately for this mother, two babies survived. Often you can see loon chicks riding on the mother's back as they learn to catch their own food, fly and swim long distances. (Thanks again Mike for these spectacular shots.)

One of the most beautiful sounds to me, is the cry of the loon. Often it is haunting, sometimes when the nest or the bird itself is threatened, it sounds frantic. I've always hated the latter, but until recent years, it hasn't been something I've heard often.

But still, in early morning its call through a rising mist sings to me of adventure, of wild territories or unspoiled lakes. The same in evening, it brings me peace and a sense of the world preparing to rest. I've felt this way since I was a tiny child and a loon's cry was a signal for my family of something changing or perhaps a call from the wilderness.

I often wonder what a loon's call means to others. Do you feel similarly?

It often can signal the beginning or end of a new season... with fall approaching...enough said. May you enjoy a song or bird call today that means something to you.

Loons - a favourite water bird

 Another wonderful photo from friend Mike. (Thanks Mike)

The loon's haunting cry has mesmerized me since I was barely walking and went up to Georgian Bay where my mother's family has a cottage.

These beautiful aquatic birds are the great divers of North American waterfowl. They hunt for fish and other creatures that live in freshwater by sight, diving deeply and not only using their powerful webbed feet but also their wings to help with their underwater searches.

I love trying to guess where they will pop up since they can stay down for quite a long time. They prefer not to walk on land except when nesting, since their legs are well back on their bodies making them unwieldy. And they take off to fly from water, not land except for one species of loon. (Thanks Wikipedia for this information.)

Because of water levels being altered and also the watercraft such as waterski boats, and the "seados" that are now very popular, there is often a wash behind these craft in spring that makes nests vulnerable and easily destroyed by the wake from unknowing or unsuspecting riders and skiers. So the species does better in remote clear water lakes.  They can be seen on occasion with one or two babies riding on an adult's back... many sweet photos have been taken of that sight.

Sent from friend Mike....thanks Mike

Hope you get to enjoy that lovely call this year - it always means summer to me, early morning or evening, often through a rising mist off a lake. Purely romantic.

Loons - a special treat

From the Loon Preservation Committee - www.loon.org - "Loons, like ducks, geese, cormorants and grebes, are waterbirds, but they are classified spearately by scientists. Their closest living relatives are penguins and a group of birds called the 'tube-nosed-swimmers' (including albatrosses, petresl and shearwaters).

North America is home to five species of loons, including the Red-throated Loon (Gavia Stellata, ) Pacific Loon (Gavia Pacifica), Arctic Loon (Gavia arctica), Yellow-billed Loon (Gavia adamsii) and common Loon (Gavia Immer). The Common Loon is the most widespread and well-known species and the only one that breeds as far south as New Hampshire."

These two beautiful birds showed up at my family's Thanksgiving celebration at my brother's cottage. He (my brother) heard their haunting call and hurried outside signalling to me that we had special visitors. I grabbed my camera - so did he.

Then I tried to capture their back and forth conversation with each other as they swam parallel to the shore - about 20 yards from it - as if they were investigating the area for good fishing or for a possible stop-over spot on their fall migratory route to their wintering ground.

It was a special moment, since loons have always been held in high regard by my family - signalling "the north" or that exceptional place of freedom and peace that I somehow connect with their sounds. Those calls bring many reminiscences of times spent on or near northern lakes, wind scoured rock and tall white pines point east as the prevailing winds would have the do. Campfires, the smell of the outdoors - the recollections rush through me almost physically on hearing them.

It was a magical moment - part of a day filled with joy and gratitude.

May you enjoy such experiences today - such wonderful recollections, prompted by something you see, hear or smell at some point during your day.

Migrating ducks

Yesterday the sun was out in the afternoon as I returned home from my pottery class. I stopped at the park just south of where I took the photos of the bend in the river a couple of days ago to see if there was anything I could get a closeup shot of.

These four buffleheads and what looks like a loon were on the river and took off when the geese sentinels started calling and everyone looked up, preparing to leave if the warning became more intense.

Since I didn't move too quickly and didn't threaten, all the birds except the ducks, just stood or walked a couple of steps and the honking increased. It was quite a sight to see these lovely black and white birds flying down the river. Their wing beats are so fast, I'm amazed I was able to catch them... maybe I'm getting faster or just more prepared. :)

Or more likely just in the right place at the right time. Some days are like that and things come together nicely. Then there are days like this morning when I had to pull two, hundred pound dogs off a raccoon they'd trapped in the drive shed before I'd even had my coffee.

But it's sunny and I'll take the day. The raccoon is snugged into the rafters, the dogs will bark at it all day and hopefully the near miss will make the critter move on. You just never really know what's next do you?

Surprises can be both good and bad. Hope any that come your way today are delightful, like my fleeing ducks.