Nature Interlude: Bird Babies and Loon Attacks

I most often use this blog to post about art projects, visits to art exhibits and museums and other artsy excursions, and other art and/or education topics.  But every so often I like to take a break to share a little bit of nature with you, through my camera.  I guess it is still an artsy post then, since I'm using my photography to share the magic of the natural world, which can be inspiration for other artwork, or art lessons and projects with students. Today's post is one of these nature interludes.  [Above, baby Red Wing Blackbirds]

In the theme of baby birds, this loon [officially, a Common Loon], above, is sitting on a nest, presumably on eggs.  Loons are water birds, and only come ashore to nest.  Their legs are placed very far back on their bodies, which makes it pretty impossible for them to walk much at all.  This is the first time I've ever seen a nesting loon, and the last time I come anywhere near a mama loon on a nest.  Actually, the pic below shows more accurately how far I was from the loon.  All closeup photos of the loon (and of the red wing blackbird babies) were taken using a zoom.  There's no way I'd ever get so close.  Anyhow, when I discovered the loon on the nest, I took my kayak in a wide arc around it, attempting to keep a respectful distance. [By the way, the other bird in the pic below is a Common Grackle]. 

I had kayaked from our Adirondack family camp [a seasonal cottage near the shore] to the little marsh at the north end of the lake [Loon Lake; one of two in the Adirondacks].  I always enter the marsh the same way, heading toward one side where there's stumps and logs where I often find turtles basking, past the tree where I saw a magnificent Bald Eagle a couple of years ago, aiming toward the weeds in the back of the marsh, where sometimes if I'm lucky I'll spot a Great Blue Heron fishing. 

And that's when I saw the loon, on a platform that had been placed in the lake several years ago, for loon nesting.  But I've never seen anything on the platform before, other than a turtle and some dragonflies, so I was caught by surprise.  We always have loons on the lake, but I've never spotted where they had nested.  I drifted slowly, taking pictures.  The loon seemed undisturbed, turning her head one way, then the other. 

After a bit, she slipped into the water, taking a peek my way, and then swimming in the opposite direction, which I took to mean she was fishing.  At this point I decided to continue toward the back of the marsh, to look for other wildlife.  Then, the loon went under, and suddenly surfaced directly in back of my kayak.  I was stunned.  I quickly tucked my camera between my knees, and the loon dived again, this time surfacing right in front of me, beside my kayak.  She was angry.  She motored forward directly at me at high speed, inches from my face, spreading her massive wings and beating them furiously against the water, her beak opening and closing, and her red eyes blazing.  I paddled backwards furiously,  until I was able to turn the nose of the kayak away and head forward, toward the back of the marsh, heart beating at breakneck speed, hands shaking.  I kayaked to the far side of the marsh, while she patrolled from the center, watching me until I exited and headed back into the open lake.  I don't recall when else I've been so terrified.  I doubt I've ever paddled faster, and I don't think my heartbeat slowed and my hands stopped shaking until I was back at my dock, a mile and a half away.  I have no plans to return to the marsh any time soon...

My visits to the baby red wing blackbirds have been much calmer, and much safer.  I discovered the nests at a pond just minutes from my home.  There's a well-used walking path around the pond, and walkways into some wetlands.  I frequently take walks around the pond, and always bring my camera, because there's lovely gardens.   

I've discovered three nests with babies at various stages of development, and I know there are more nests deep in the rushes.  Very cool.  These pics are a variety from my visits to the pond, every  few days.  The baby birds develop very fast!

Here's mama with a caterpillar in her beak, ready to feed her babies. 

And here's dad.  He looks like he's pacing! 

 This baby was developed enough to be kicked out of the nest.  The babies hang onto rushes until they are able to fly, waiting for mama or daddy to bring food. 

 I've named this baby Mr. Grumpy-pants.  Look at that face!

Enjoy the nature around you this summer, and take your time! Most of the people I see walking at this pond have no idea these baby birds are just a few feet away from them.  I feel so privileged to have made these discoveries.  But take my reminder: wild animals, no matter how beautiful, are ultimately WILD.  You cannot predict their behavior.  I certainly have learned that!

A joyful loon update!

This blog post is a brief detour from my usual artsy post, to update a heartbreaking story about a loon that I shared on the blog here, almost two years ago, especially for those of you who are long-time regular readers of my blog.  Here' s a link to that former post.  At the time, I had encountered an injured loon, with fishing line and lure stuck in his neck and mouth, that seemed to be making it difficult for him to dive and therefore feed himself.

This weekend, I was kayaking at our lakeside camp ( the Adirondack term for a cottage or cabin or such), and I came across the loon pictured above and directly below.  These are crops of the the photos I took, as I wasn't able to get very close to the loon.  When I got home, I put the pics on my laptop.  I started zooming in and cropping the pics, and made an amazing discovery: this is THE SAME LOON as the one in my post from two years ago!!!  Take a close look at the neck in the pic directly below, and then compare it to the second of the two images below, which was taken two years ago and appeared in that former blog post.  While the new pic is not a great photo, you can see the fishing line and a swivel hook to a lure or some sort of weight on the line in exactly the same place.

 Here's another picture I shot this weekend.

While I am saddened that the bird has to live with this disability, it's clear he's found a way to adapt.  I noticed a very unusual fishing style, for example.  Generally, a loon will swivel his head around, and then dive down, coming up a few minutes later at some distance away.  This loon was lowering his head and neck, almost flattening himself against the water, before diving.  I couldn't imagine why, until I realized he was the loon with the injury.  I'm absolutely tickled to know he has survived and apparently thrived.  I've been asked, from time to time, if I knew what had happened to the loon, and I'm happy to be able to share this story with you.

If you read my 2-year old blog post, you'll note that I feel a bond with this loon, so I'll be on the lookout for him as the season progresses.  Here's a view from my kayak, as I was on my way back to our "camp" from my little kayak sojourn.   The lake water is cold still, so I wore a spray skirt on my kayak, but the sun was out and it was a glorious day.

 As my husband was locking up the camp before we left, I took a little walk up the road and saw these unfurling fiddleheads.  I've never seen the fuzz on them, so luckily my husband was patient while I took a few minutes to snap these pictures.  I'm sure that even if I get back there in a few days, they will not look the same.

 And finally, a last look at the lake from our dock, which my husband just put back in the water for the season.  We are lucky to have this beautiful location just an easy 35-40 minute drive from our home. 

my little slice of heaven

I have been a lazy blogger.   I am not ready with an art post, so to appease you, I'm going to post about my lake.  You've seen it here before, and will see it again.

view of town beach from my kayak

I've been smitten with lakes most of my life.  My first teaching job was near the shore of Lake Champlain, and it was there that, besides spending summers swimming and sunning, I also learned to windsurf and became a certified scuba diver, both activities which I enjoyed for many many years.

lake panorama, from kayak

When I first met my husband, and he told me he had this 'camp' on Loon Lake (one of many such named lakes), I was very excited, because it was at the same lake where my family vacationed many summers, and where I first swam, and where I first rowed a rowboat by myself.  Lo an behold, his property turned out to be a stone's throw from where my family used to vacation!  I can walk or swim there!

abstract ripples, as viewed from my lounge chair on dock

For many years, I poked around the shoreline in a little inflatable boat, or a canoe, until my son went to boy scout camp and came home telling us he wanted a kayak.  We bought one second-hand, and that is the kayak I have used extensively ever since.  We still have the canoe, and another kayak, and also a cute little rowboat that my husband likes to use.

 Above, a lone loon.  We have several loons currently on the lake, and it is always magical to hear them and see them.  For those of you curious about the fate of the loon with the fishing line in his mouth, the answer is simply "I don't know."  The loon expert was unable to locate and rescue him, and I haven't seen him again, but just a few days ago a neighbor told us he was still around, and had been diving and feeding.  So - fingers crossed that he is able to survive.

Loons - we awoke the other morning to their haunting calls!

Meanwhile, a couple of weeks ago, in my kayak, I was daydreaming and recalling a trip to Alaska many years ago, where they told us to always look for 'white golf balls' in the trees.  That's how to spot eagles!  So, while daydreaming, I casually looked up above me, and this is what I saw:

 A half hour later, I was relaxing in my kayak at the marsh at the end of the lake, when a huge shadow passed over me.  The great blue heron landed nearby, and here he is:

Anyhow, here's a few more recent pictures of 'my' lake. 

 This is my favorite time of year - autumn in the Adirondacks is beautiful!

These photos, by the way, are NOT edited.  It's really this pretty here!  I can't locate any photos, but I always loved doing elementary color-mixing art projects in the fall, because none of the colors we see are 'straight out of the bottle colors'.  We'd sponge-paint leaves, and reflections, trying to mix the varieties of gold, amber, ochre, red, burgundy, olive, mustard, tomato, and so much more, that we see all around us.

A few days ago, we hiked up nearby Stewart's Mountain, an easy climb.  Here's a couple of views of my lake from the top of the climb.

 And finally, a couple of weeks ago, before the colors started changing -

A loon saga

Today I am sharing the story of an injured loon, rather than the post I was planning, about using roofing felt as a wonderful painting surface, and much more.  I'll post that hopefully tomorrow instead.  For those of you who are my Facebook friends, you've probably already seen some of these loon pics, but I hope you don't mind that I'm sharing them again.   

 Our lake, where we we have a 'camp' (the Adirondack term for a cabin, a cottage, or whatever you want to call it), is on a lake named, aptly, Loon Lake.  But it is always a treat when we get to see or hear a loon, since they are animals that prefer quiet and solitude, not at all like the ducks, geese, and gulls that frequent the lake.  Loons are magnificent animals, with brilliant red eyes, and intricate patterns of stripes and dots formed miraculously by feathers.  I think I am drawn to them because their coloring (black, white, with a touch of red) is my favorite fashion color scheme!

Our weekend loon experience started, at least for me, on Friday, when my husband and I were relaxing on our dock, he with a beer, me with a book.  Partway across the lake, we spotted a loon, which is always exciting to see.  But as we watched, the loon looked like it was behaving oddly, so I took out my little Sony point & shoot camera which has a terrific zoom on it, so that I could get a closer look.  And this is what I saw:

 The loon repeatedly stretched up his neck and head.

 And he lifted his body partway out of the water and flapped his wings.

 But he didn't fly. And he didn't dive.  Typically, when watching a loon, you suddenly notice him pop up somewhere.  Then, he looks around for a moment, goes down for a dive, and comes up a minute or two later in a completely different location. 

Instead, this loon slowly swam down the lake, taking his time, and never once diving.  So I was curious.  I grabbed my camera and got in my kayak and quietly paddled in the direction of the loon.  And as I got very close, I noticed a few things.  First of all, the loon didn't do a disappearing act when I came   close.  Second of all, I noticed this:

 Coming from the corner of his mouth was some fishing line, with a metal swivel of some sort on it, and I believe some sinkers.  It appeared to be attached to his neck.  I followed the loon as he swam aimlessly across the lake and here and there.   Occasionally he turned his head and fussed with the fishing line, but obviously was unable to remove it.

At one point, someone riding a jet ski came barreling in his direction.  I screamed 'LOON' (and a few other choice words) and pointed madly, but the jet ski rider didn't turn or slow. The loon very briefly went under water and immediately resurfaced. 

I spoke to my neighbor, who is president of the Lake Association.  He told me that the bird had been repeatedly spotted for two weeks, and that a loon expert (a vet) had been contacted and had visited the lake at night in a Jon boat with a searchlight (evidently the birds are docile then, and are easier to rescue at night) but had been unable to find the loon.  People who had seen the loon prior to my spotting had also indicated the loon had been seen fishing (which I personally did not witness), so the loon expert did not think the bird was in distress.  She said she'd be back if the loon was reported to be in distress, unable to eat.  Evidently at that time the loon would likely crawl up on a shore.  We do not believe the loon is able to fly.

The next day, Saturday, I saw the loon again, and again took my kayak and my camera for a ride.    There were more boaters on the lake, so the bird was definitely more cautious.  When I got close a couple of times he softly vocalized, so I did not attempt to get any closer.  But I also noticed a piece of line coming from the other side of the loon's mouth.  One hypothesis is that the loon caught a fish that had swallowed a lure with fishing line attached.

 Some neighbors were kayaking to the marsh, and I thought about going too, but instead I decided to return to our camp for a swim.  I had just turned back toward home, when I noticed another loon.  The injured loon was heading toward the other, so I followed at a distance.   They met up, had a brief 'conversation', and the other loon proceeded to fish.  The injured loon just floated on the surface.  I  believe that perhaps the people who reported the loon had been fishing had been watching the wrong loon.  

A couple more loon shots -

 My neighbor had me email him my photos of the loon (evidently I'm the only person who had taken pictures that clearly showed the nature of the injury) and he forwarded my photos to the loon expert.

The following day, Sunday, I did not see the loon so I took my kayak for a peaceful spin through the marsh.  When I returned, my husband told me the loon had been hanging out in a little cove down the lake from us.  He witnessed a powerboat come close to running over the loon. The loon kicked up his heels - splashing his flipper-feet on the surface, and flapped his wings madly, but did not go under the surface at all.  What the heck is wrong with these people?  Don't they look where they are going at all?  This is a magnificent animal, and it is definitely large enough to see.  As a matter of fact, it is a VERY large bird!

Anyhow, before we left to go home, our neighbor told us the loon expert 'might' be returning that night, to search again for my loon.  If they find the loon, they will 'rescue' it, and I guess will remove the fishing line.  Meanwhile, here's a couple of pics from my peaceful kayak visit to the marsh, and one of a lovely person I met floating on the lake on my return trip. 

 

 Above, a turtle.  I was worried about it, until friend and turtle-lover Mr. E. informed me that the turtle is shedding his shell.  I didn't know they did that!  I wonder though, at this state, when he swims, don't the loose shell parts get caught on seaweed or something?  And I'd love to see, what's under that shell?  The parts of the turtle I can see have such rich coloring; I wonder if he's like that under the shell, too?

Below, in the marsh.  I believe this floating thing was set up for loon nesting.  I wonder if the loons use it?

 And, the sweet lady I spotted on my return.  I've seen her and dog many times over the years, and the dog used to float in his own little float basket!  Now that he's older, he sticks with her. 

Unfortunately, we won't be back at the lake for more than a week, so I'm hoping that the expert and her team will return and will be successful this time. The Lake Association has a Facebook page, and I was promised that if the loon was rescued that it would be posted to the page.  As of this time, there has been no posting.  I'm gonna keep hoping, but I know, it's a wild animal, and that means it unpredictable. 

I'll close with a funny photo for you.  I wasn't really planning on watching porn while I read my book!!