Guest column on loons

Disclosure: I'm loony about loons, so through a mutual friend I get the emails with commentary and photographs that Ellie George sends to her list.

To find out what the photos show, please read the commentary.

Column and all photos by Ellie George

Last evening I spent a wonderful 3 hours before dark with Wrinkly, the
male loon, and his chick, Mighty Mite. It was a gorgeous sunny late
afternoon, and there were several kayaks and SUPs on the pond, so I found
Wrinkly and Mite in the quiet south bay. For the first time this summer,
Wrinkly led Mite through the narrow passage into the very south part of the
bay. This is a dangerous spot for loons, and Wrinkly doesn't take his
chicks through this until they are almost full grown. Eagles sometimes
perch near this spot, and the loons must feel very vulnerable with no deep
water to escape into and shore very close on both sides. Wrinkly usually
swims underwater through this whole passage, but this time he swam above
water looking all around, and the chick swam close to him, shown in the
first photo. I paddled behind them.

The loon pair fished together in the south bay for over an hour. Wrinkly
was still feeding the chick, but Mite was also fishing for herself. At one
point Wrinkly gave a three note discordant wail, an alarm call, and looked
in the sky and scanned all the trees. He called again and kept looking.
Mite was silent, and I could not see any danger. Wrinkly went back to
fishing, and eventually he led the chick back north through the scary
constriction again. The loons started fishing in the mouth of the bay, when
suddenly Wrinkly gave his 3 note alarm call again, then repeatedly. I
scanned the skies, and finally spotted an immature bald eagle heading our
way. It flew right over us, but did not threaten the loons. Right after it
flew overhead, Wrinkly dove, but the chick stayed above the surface and gave
a chick tremolo call.

Soon after, the loons were back to fishing, and Wrinkly caught a large
pumpkinseed sunfish. He immediately offered it to Mite, even though it was
large and very lively. Mite took it eagerly, and quickly fumbled it and
lost it, so both loons immediately splash-dove to catch it again. I was
surprised to see Mite come up with it in her bill. In the past, whenever
Wrinkly gave her a large fish, she would fumble it so many times that he
would have to catch it over and over again. Eventually Wrinkly would eat
the large fish himself. This time both loons were more persistent, and Mite
tried several times to swallow it unsuccessfully. Wrinkly swam right next
to her during the whole process, making sure that such a prize was not lost.
Wrinkly recaught the sunfish a few times and tenderized it a bit. Then Mite
also worked at tenderizing it herself, rearing up and then coming down hard
to bite it, breaking some of the sharp fin spines, and eventually killing
the fish. Finally, after repeated efforts, Mite got it down! She looked
very uncomfortable for a few minutes, and if I hadn't known she had just
eaten probably her largest fish ever, I would have thought she was sick,
with eyes half closed, neck distended, and feathers rumpled.

Wrinkly started to bathe and preen. Loon bathing is a very splashy and
comical affair. In one of the photos, you can see one of his feathers
flying high in the air, since Wrinkly is molting his breeding plumage and
growing in his gray winter plumage. Then Mite, who had recovered somewhat,
started to bathe also. She was splashing and rearing, and came up out of
the water in "vulture" posture, which a loon does when it is trying to
intimidate a rival. She must have been practicing for future encounters.
It was funny to see her rear up and look evil, then lose her balance and
come splashing back down. Finally after Mite finished her bath and
preening session, she dozed off right next to my canoe. Wrinkly was
finishing up his very extensive preening bout, and he was floating in a pool
of molted black and white feathers, for me a sad sign that winter is coming
and the loons will soon be migrating to the ocean.

As the sun was setting, I said goodbye to Wrinkly, and he responded with a
foot waggle, a move which looks like he is waving, but actually he is
shaking the water off his foot so he can tuck it under his wing and keep it
warm and dry. I told him I would miss him, and he did a couple of slow head
nods with his eyes half closed, which is a behavior loons do when they are
relaxed and comfortable. As I paddled away, I realized that sharing this
time with the loon family had been one of the most beautiful evenings of my
life.