Old Trunks would have thought more Loon legends would be available on the Internet to weave into the pictures from the lake this last weekend. One would think with its solid bones, its big feet, and its inability to walk on land would offer more that a story about the Native Americans throwing them into the water because they were clumsy on land and always knocking things over.
For all of us who have heard the cries, the coos, and the warning songs, we are enamored by them. Even Paul, a stoic, mayor-like person who lives next to us at the lake, was out with his camera taking pictures of a loon on her nest. He emailed me his picture, which was taken in the same place I had taken mine!
Every lake appears to have a nesting pair. At a lake with an earthen launch, and no cabins along its shoreline we found a pair back in a cove. I laid down my rod and watched and photographed these magnificently marked water fowl as it preened, scooted along the water, raised up and spread its wings. The Loon didn't seem to care if we watched it clown about as Tom moved the boat about to catch the best angle of the sun on their jet black and snowy white feathers. It was a magnificent experience; I found myself holding my breath. When we stopped watching, my arms ached from holding the camera steady on that windy, water rolling day.
It isn't only Minnesota that has Loons. They can be found in Wisconsin, Michigan , even Wyoming talks about them. In the winter, they go south and to the Pacific area as in Washington State. Here they are in their winter coats and look nothing like they do in the summer.
Now, we will wait for the hatch and watch as the parents carry them on their backs. The parents will feed them for about three months. It is said they will fly in eleven weeks.