Loon Surprise

During the busy summer days, it sometimes is not easy for me to sneak away.  On a recent morning, Greg asked if I had twenty minutes to spare, as he had something he wanted to show me.  He told me to grab my camera, and that we were going by boat. It was only 7:45, and my schedule allowed for it, so I grabbed some yogurt, thinking I could eat breakfast while we rode along.  After pushing the  boat into the water, Greg started the motor and we skimmed across the lake.  

It was a beautiful morning, filled with sunshine but little wind. We boated into a nearby bay, and he started to make large swipes and passes, near to shore.  Finally he told me what he was looking for:  a mama loon and her baby.  Some neighbors had seen the pair in this bay the day before, and Greg was hoping that she was still there.  I've never seen a baby---it looked promising that I was going to

get my chance.

Soon, we spotted them, and we carefully crept closer.   We kept a respectful distance and cut the motor, allowing us to drift along quietly.  I was grateful for the bit of zoom capability on my camera, so that I could capture a few photos and some video, too.  I was also glad that we didn't seem to be disturbing the little family at all.  They just kept swimming back and forth, mama keeping an eye sternly fixed in our direction.

I had expected the little one to be grey in color, but it was a drab brown. Better camouflage, I supposed. Considering that the winter plumage of a loon is brown, I guess it isn't surprising. This one actually seemed  to be a little older, so it didn't need to ride on its mother's back.  It kept close to the parent, and she often shielded the chick from our view.  When I could see the two clearly, I noticed that they had a similar profile--long, low bodies and the same crook to the neck and set to the head.  Distinctly a loon.  I liked that.

When I felt I had made enough attempts at photographs, I switched to the video button on my camera.  Perhaps the adult knew this, because she started to talk a bit.  It wasn't the traditional long calls we are accustomed to.  Rather, it was just some short little notes, almost like a quick greeting.  For all I know, it could have been a warning, but she certainly didn't seem agitated.

The twenty minutes were definitely up, so we began our ride back to the lodge.  But when we rounded the point, I spotted an eagle in a tree, just down the shoreline.  We motored over for a closer look.

This guy REALLY watched us.  It wasn't even thirty seconds, and he determined that he didn't want to hang around, and we saw his massive wings unfold and lift him into the air.  He swooped away, and landed in a tree further down the lake.  I figured that was a good thing.  It meant that he was that much farther away from that lovely little loon chick that I had just seen. 

Seeing a baby loon has long been on my list of things to see here in the Northwoods.  I'm grateful to Greg for having given me that gift.

Early Morning Songs

Early morning in July....the birds beginning to wake, the ravens carrying on their conversations.  Through the years of living here, we've always had quiet mornings inside.  But that is not true of the outside world. So far today, I've heard white throated sparrows singing to each other, blue jays cawing, an oven bird proclaiming the day, and of course, the ravens.  Their full-throated calls as they fly by easily wake a person trying to catch a few more minutes of sleep. It's as if they are wondering "Why isn't everyone up?"  

And when I did get up, I could see why they feel that way. It's beautiful out.  The sky was patterned with lingering clouds, reflecting the last edges of the night's grey shadows.  Soon the trees were glimmering with the early traces of the rising sun. More quickly than I expected (even though I've seen this countless times by now) the sun was full up, in my eyes, as I sat here on the couch with my morning cup. How is it that this basic, often repeated ritual, can bring such happiness?

People seem to have a favorite season. Many say fall because of the colors that paint themselves across the landscape. Others say winter, presumably due to the snow. I love summer, because it gives me an energy that is different from the other seasons. Maybe it's because of the continued warmth I feel, so that I don't have to bundle up to stay comfortable.  Maybe it's the abundant sunshine, that magnificent source of energy for so much in the plant and animal world. Maybe it's because of the simple pleasures that I see all around me. Whatever it is, I take it and I savor it.  It's not unusual for me to repeat this phrase at this time of the year: Soon enough, it will be winter again. I'm going to love this sunshine and heat while we have it.

Settling in to Summer

Now that the wild rains of the previous week have passed, we've been settling in to summer.  Mornings are generally calm like this photo taken from Diamond Willow.  Today, Greg woke me about six o'clock, and motioned to an eagle sitting outside. The bird was perched on the top of a spruce tree within direct sight of our window.  He sat there for a while, turning his head this way and that.  I was hoping that he was looking for a meal of fresh fish, rather than a baby duck or loon.  Not that I have any say over the matter!

My wish to see a baby loon has still gone unfulfilled, but I have been able to watch a mama goldeneye duck with her two little ones.  They have been swimming happily in the bay in recent days, bobbing up and under while she keeps a watchful eye.

It was impossible to get a family shot, since the little ones were mostly intent on diving under water, as though they were showing mom how well they could do it.  She occasionally took a dive as well, but it looked more like swimming lesson time than mealtime.  These little ones are actually well-feathered, so I expect they are more than a week or so old. 

Whether or not the eagle was successful in fishing this morning, I do know someone else who was, last week.  After eating pizza with us one evening, this fellow wanted to go out and try for some lake trout.  No sooner had he left, when it seemed he was back....to ask one of his buddies to take a photo for him.  He had already snagged some fish, and landed this beauty.  I got in on the photo opp, too.  Two of his companions decided that they had to join him, and they were all in the boat catching more trout. It was so fun to see them reeling one in right before my eyes.  They ended up with three decent fish, including a ten-pounder.  Some days, it's only a matter of being in the right place at the right time, and they had nailed it. 

 

The flowers are blooming profusely, and some people were already able to enjoy blueberry pancakes with maple syrup.  That's a promise of good things to come, since it looks like a decent berry crop this year.  It must be the right combination of rain, sunshine, and just enough heat for the berries to be ripening this early.  I've noticed lots of raspberry blossoms, and some thimbleberry flowers, too.  If the weather continues on this path, we should be picking those within a few weeks. I find it much easier to hit the sweet spot in the berry patch than at the fishing hole.  Fortunately, either place holds wonderful rewards.

Calmer Days Ahead

The water-filled excitement of the last two days has subsided, and left in its place is a wind that is causing Gunflint Lake to roll.  It's a westerly one, at 10-20 mph, though in my opinion, more of the latter and less of the former.  It's not unusual to have the wind kick up like this when a pattern changes, but fortunately, it is only predicted to last through the day. By this evening, and for tomorrow, it is supposed to diminish.  That will be good, because then folks will once again be able to get out on the lake more easily.

Our personal challenge in this latest series of weather events has been keeping the boats all floating.  Our fleet (as it were) is pulled up on shore, but the boats tied to the dock haven't fared as well.  Greg and Paul have been busy using the water pump to help empty a boat or two, so that they can once again float.  Just another example of the power that Gunflint Lake and the weather can dish out to us, the often unsuspecting.

Also in the wake of the storm are reports hitting the headlines across the country about the flood damage in Duluth and along the North Shore.  The pictures have been incredible to see, and having grown up in Duluth, I can recognize many of these places.  Reference has been made to the flooding back in 1972.  When talking to my sister last night, fragments of that emerged in my memory----some folks canoeing down our neighborhood street one summer day, and my siblings and I wading through waist deep water.  Until now, I could not remember what year that was.  It seems odd that a city built on a hill can actually flood, but if enough rain comes down, I guess it is possible.  On the flip side, I like to think about what the numbers would be if that much moisture fell in the winter instead.  They say that an inch of rain is roughly equivalent to 10-12 inches of snow.  Can you imagine over 100" of snow in one storm?  That would be something to see.

Those afore mentioned reports are giving the impression that the highway between Duluth and Two Harbors is completely shut down.  During the height of the storm, I believe that large sections may have been, but at this point, the only section that is closed is at the Knife River bridge on the expressway of Highway 61.  A detour is in place that takes travelers a short way down the hill to the scenic highway.  You can continue on the scenic highway to Two Harbors, or you can go back up to the expressway.  Either way, it won't add much more time to your trip.  Other areas through Duluth and along Highway 61 may have some slower spots, but from the reports I've been hearing, everything is moving along just fine.

My folks live in Duluth, along the shore, and when I talked to my mom on Wednesday evening, they had just returned from a trip to the grocery store.  She said that they had no problems getting around to where they needed to go.  So all in all, I expect that travelers may encounter a bit of a change from the normal drive, but it shouldn't be bad.  On the good side, the waterfalls along the way should be absolutely spectacular!  My dad always told us when we were passing by the Cross River in Schroeder that we had to look out the window to see the water rushing down.  To this day, I still continue the practice, and sort of want to take a drive down there just to see it right now! 

I'll close with a photo taken a week ago, when the lake was much calmer than it is right now.  We'll see this again, I know, as the next few days are supposed to be warmer, sunny and calm.  Sounds like a welcome change to me.