THE COMMON LOON

Greater than a decade ago, Old Trunks had an on line friend named Jim. When I talked with Jim on line about the Common Loon, he saw nothing beautiful about there color, calls, or mannerisms. Jim only saw them as a dull chestnut colored water fowl that spent the winters near him on the west coast. I pounded the keys long and hard to win him over to my side; one of mystery and appreciation for what became the Minnesota state bird.

Someone is lobbying to have the Chick a dee be the winter state bird when the loons are not here. The lobbyist has not convinced the legislators at the time of this posting.

In our fishing adventures, we have recently seen artificial nesting platforms that float on the lake but or anchored to the bottom. The ones we saw this year where triangle shaped with netting on the sides to keep the predators out. Around the platform were posts stating in was a nesting area, which kept boaters away from the nest.

Yet, on Leech Lake and many others, the loons seem to find a clump of a bog on which to lay and hatch their chicks. If you get too close to the nest, the parent will slip off and swim underwater, surface and make noises to distract you from disturbing the clutch. These solid boned birds can dive to great depths and swim quickly. To fly, they 'run' on the water and flap their wings for several hundred yards before taking flight.

Their hatch is two or three chicks. As babies, they ride on the back of their parents, both for safety and for warmth. By the first part of July they are swimming about and if separated from their parents, dive for safety.

There is one set of loons that had four chicks last summer, this year, the same parents nested again in the same area. When the chicks were very young, there were three, at last count, they had only one chick. Big fish, such as pike may have had them for a meal.

The loons are fun to watch as well as to listen to. Recently a male was courting a female and would chortle, stand tall in the water and flap his wings to get her attention. Not knowing enough about 'loon love' Old Trunks can't be certain she accepted his offer.

Every year the camera is bloated with pictures of loons--every year I hope to be close enough to see their red eyes in the image. Often it is time to lay down the casting rod and admire these marvelous creatures with their pure white and blue black feathers and their red eyes. And nearly ever year, I say, like Jim once told me about whales in a photo he sent, "Well, it looked bigger, closer in person."

Come to Minnesota and listen. That eerie sound you hear is not a ghost haunting a northern lake. It's the call of the common loon. This bird, whose ancestors roamed the earth 65 million years ago. I am so infatuated with them that one year, our Christmas cards was a reproduction of a feather!

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