The Gift of the Loon

Early April. Friday.

Cool. Still. Fog rising from the lake.

No longer dark but not yet light, in the beautiful in-between just before sunrise. Piercing the quiet, the tremelo call of the loon echoes down the lake announcing loon’s presence somewhere in the the mist.

Sun rises, geese calling, purple martins stretch their wings, their chitter chatter calls me to stretch my own legs and rise. Walking down the dock to the cove behind where the sun is just warming the tops of the trees.

Loon. Close.

Lazily diving, pausing, preening, rinsing and diving again. Loon dives, I count, 1, 2, 3….20…I worry loon has left the cove and maybe I won’t see her again…she reappears. Further than I would have imagined that lazy dive would take her. We repeat this process for a beautiful hour. Cormorants and coots pass through but loon remains.

Two days later. Sunday. Warmer. Boaters and fishermen will come but they are not here yet.

Sun rises, cormorants fish, coots squeak by, teals and shovelers feed in the nearby reeds. Here again is loon. Quickly past, moving toward the cove, beckoning me to follow.

Loon shows me her gift. White shapes just behind, my brain is trying to name what my eyes see.

Egrets! 17 egrets in long, lacy breeding plumage. Fanciest of all the fancy gowns worn to the spring mating party. Perfect light. Sun rising behind me, egrets in perfect spotlight.

I thank loon for her gift as she leaves.

Egrets stretch. Egrets preen. Egrets move or don’t move as suits each one. Solitude and space but still together.

Gorgeous wings stretch out and glide down the shore. Long necks twist to preen feathers in impossible positions and I imagine what it’s like to move this way.

Heron - who calls this cove his - tries to maintain some boundaries. Heron will be happy when the egrets leave but I am delighted by their presence.

Grace holds the solitude for at least an hour, I lose track of time. Egrets are so generous to the camera. Thousands of pictures before the light quality fades and solitude of the morning gives way to a busy lake of boaters.

Magic.

The possibility is always there, on this day I was able to receive it.

Grateful.