The Loons are Back!
First thing each morning I go out to have a look at the ice. This last remnant of winter is slowly receding from the lake. The solid surface we travelled on for the past four months is melting away. Last Saturday evening I crossed the lake on the ice for the last time. On Monday, I walked out a hundred metres to measure the thickness of the ice.
Wednesday, I launched the canoe! Oh it did feel good to be afloat again…even if the travel was restricted to a two to three-metre ribbon of water along the shore. By evening, all the ice from the lodge out to the island was gone.
This morning there was twice as much water showing. I stood on the sauna dock, looking out toward the end of the bay. Packs of ice had shifted halfway out, blocking off the shoreline route I had paddled yesterday morning. Then I heard the loon!
Ahhhh! They are back! Our loons made it through another winter, another migration. This loon came from the southeast, as it does every spring. First I heard its 'I'm Home!' tremolo. Then I heard the beat of its wings. I love to hear the whoosh of wind as the loon pushes its way though the air.
Next I saw the reflection of the loon in the lake as it rushed by. The clear still water of morning gave the perfect mirror image – a sight we've not had since late November.
The loon kept on flying, out the bay, then over the hill to the south bay of Kukagami. I walked along the shore toward the boat dock so I could catch the warmth of the morning sun.
As I walked, I slowly became conscious of another call. It seemed so commonplace that at first I hadn't noticed – then suddenly, I recognized another of the loon's calls, the wail. Another loon was calling from MacDonald's pond, just a half kilometre to the south. The ice likely went off the pond yesterday. One of the loons who will spend the summer there was calling for its mate. Wooooooo………
From the bay to the north, a third loon called out with the yodel. The first loon called its tremolo from the south bay, and the second called from the pond. A pileated woodpecker tapped its resonant call on a hollow tree, the white-throated sparrow sang its clear sweet song, and the chickadees are courting too.
With the return of 'soft water' to the lake, the silence of winter ends, and the joyful noise of spring begins.
