An Unexpected Attack On Open Water
Black-and-white wings thrashed against the surface, throwing spray directly across the aluminum gunwale. The large common loon lunged forward, beating its wings furiously against the metal hull as the man in the orange shirt pulled back his elbows.
The bird dipped below the surface, surged forward again, and thrust its sharp bill toward the side of the boat. Water churned white around its paddle-like feet.
The fisherman turned around on the aluminum bench, eyes wide, mouth parted in disbelief. Instead of diving deep or fleeing across the open lake, the bird stayed pinned to their wake.
It circled back around, paddling hard against the current, keeping its red eyes locked on the stern. Every time the boat drifted, the loon matched its speed.
Following The Call Toward The Marsh
The loon began cutting deliberate lines through the water, veering toward a dense wall of tall green marsh grass along the shoreline. It puffed its chest feathers and lifted both wings in a broad display, looking over its shoulder as it swam.
The men guided the small boat along the bird’s path, cutting the engine to reduce the wake. The loon paddled directly ahead, maintaining a steady distance of just a few feet.
It stopped at the edge of the thick reed bed, turning its neck repeatedly between the vegetation and the boat. The bird let out a sharp cry, dipping its beak toward the waterline.
The bow nudged against the stalks of grass, coming to a complete stop against the shallow bank.
The adult loon did not dive or retreat into deep water. It floated inches from the hull, paddling in tight, agitated circles.
Reaching Into The Tall Grass
The man in the orange cap leaned over the metal side, parting the vertical reeds with his bare hands. He reached down into the tangled root system where the stalks grew thickest.
His fingers closed around a ball of dark, sodden down wedged tightly between the stems. He worked his palm beneath the tiny body and lifted it clear of the stalks.
A tiny chick sat resting on his open palm, its damp fuzz trembling against his skin. The chick opened its miniature beak and let out a faint peeping sound.
The parent bird surged alongside the boat the second the chick appeared above the waterline. Its red eyes widened, and it stretched its neck flat against the water.
The man lowered his arm slowly over the side, bringing his open palm level with the lake’s surface. He tilted his wrist, letting the small bird slide smoothly into the open water.
Together In The Shallows
The chick hit the water with a soft splash and immediately kicked its tiny webbed feet. The adult loon closed the distance instantly, lowering its pointed beak until it touched the chick’s downy forehead.
The two birds rubbed beaks together, the adult making soft clucking sounds deep in its throat. The chick pressed against the adult’s feathered flank, matching its tiny strokes to the parent’s rhythm.
Both birds turned away from the boat and swam side by side into the shelter of the green grass.
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