The Turkey Runs

Visiting Friends at the Camp

After a number of cold and rainy days, one is doubly thankful to be at the Camp in the Adirondacks.  It's always great to be there, and even better when it is a calm and sunny day.

A fabulous day to follow Mary...

...across the calm waters of Lily Lake.

We visited, but the beavers were not home.

In fact, it looked like humans had breached their dam.

This guy posed.
I was surprised at how close he let me come.

"Did you get my profile?"
His feathers look a bit shaggy.

"That's enough.  Good bye!"

It could be that I was able to get close because he didn't hear me.
I wonder if he is old and has heron loss.

Mama and baby were in the big lake.
Loon-like markings are beginning to show on baby's back.

"Let's go that way, Mom."

Mama knows better.

And she looks every bit as lovely as before junior came along.

We paddled back through the weeds.

The occasional puffy clouds were quite welcome.
It got quite hot in the unbroken sun.

I sat and watched this tiny spider weave a web.
Amazing energy and technique.

Stretching one line to properly position the next.

Both engineering and artistry.

On her way to a meal on my arm,
the mosquito became entangled.
I did not shed a tear.

As the day wound down, other kayakers paddled toward the setting sun.

Evan, Randy, and other loons

Evan came to visit us at the camp.  As soon as he arrived, it started raining.  I finished the evening's sausages in the microwave because the grill was drowned.

The next morning we awoke to a dark and gloomy day.  The weather report was less promising than the view over the lake.

"You'd better go paddle now if you're going to do it," said sage Mary.  Smart people take Mary's advice to heart.  We also took her advice.

朝食前 (Chōshoku mae) is what a coworker once told me is the Japanese phrase loosely meaning "very easy."  Literally, it means "before breakfast."  I don't think he was talking about kayaking, but that was our timing.

Evan in the mist.

We paddled through the quiet cloud.  Upon rounding the bend in the channel that opens into Lily Lake, we spied a dark head close to the water.  

Evan on Lily lake.

On days like this, the common saying is "It's great weather for ducks."  I believe it is even better weather for loons.  

Upon closer inspection, it was not one dark head, but two!

Mama and baby.

As we floated downwind, our boats came closer and closer to the loons.  Baby can dive now, so Mom was not terribly concerned.  Or perhaps like the hummingbirds, they've seen me enough to identify me as the innocuous old fool that I am.  Mom saw me, but paid little attention.  The two of them casually swam within a few feet of my boat and on toward deeper water.

"Hey, Mom, look at these two staying on the surface.
Can't they dive?"

Just before we pulled ashore and out of the increasing drizzle, Evan noted Papa in the shallow bay across the channel from neighbor Pete's dock.  Unusual.  I rarely see them in shallow water where they can't disappear into the depths in a flash.  The gloomy conditions must foster confidence in the loons.  

Clearly, it was a great day for loons.  At least Evan and I thought so.