ADVENTURES IN PADDLING

Lure of the Likely Loonlet

The reconnaissance was accurate and appreciated

The White Admiral poses for the author. (All photos by the author)

During a swim off the boat in West Lake, a very reliable source heard the loons singing anxiously near the marsh. The report made its way to the author.

The report also indicated that the little ones are called “loonets.” Who knew?

In July, loon anxiety often indicates concern for their young. The area of reported loon vocalization lies upstream from the site of butterfly photography. To get there, one must paddle through the flooded creek that is Stewarts Landing, past the remnants of the Stone Dam into Lily Lake, across that wild pond, around Dolgeville Point in Canada Lake, and across the full width of West Lake. It’s about 3 miles of paddling.

White Admirals are primarily black-looking, but perhaps this aged one has lost some pigment. Perhaps you can identify with its plight.

With the butterfly photo session complete, it was time to get on the water.

It was a cloudy, windy day. The good news was that the less-than-perfect conditions would minimize the annoyance of both the bugs and gasoline-powered watercraft. The bad news was that the stiff wind was in my face.

The usually busy sandpipers were content to chill on a rock in Lily Lake.

Comical sandpipers exhibit exceptional balance. Standing in the wind on a single foot, most species would soon be in the water.

Bravo!

This sandpiper is practicing yoga. Feel free to spread your wings while standing on one foot on a rock in the middle of Lily Lake. Expect to see exactly this in Rodney Yee’s next video.

Even though you hide, eagle juvie, I see you.

He looked like a raven high up in the tree, but the barely discernible hook in his beak gave him away. Also, the fact he was in the tree supporting the eagle’s nest was a pretty good indication.

There were no eaglets this year in that nest on Dolgeville Point, so perhaps he was on a nostalgic visit home.

Paddling around the point, the loon search was on. Heading for the northwest corner, a loon call from behind broke through the wind.

What’s that little bobber?

The whole fan-damily soon appeared.

It was often hard to see the little guy in the wind-driven chop. It must be tiring keeping up with Mom and Dad with those tiny webbed feet.

Uh, Mom? How about a ride?

A rash assumption indicates the loonlet wanted a ride on Mom’s back. Identifying the sex of adult loons is impossible.

She didn’t say, “No.”

Made it!

Firmly ensconced on mom’s back, it’s time to catch a few Zs.

Juvi showed himself on the way back.

Unsurprisingly, the wind had picked up and reversed direction on the journey home. One should be thankful for the opportunity for a better workout, correct?

The normally hyperactive sandpipers were still there. It must be their day off.

Bonus views!

Another day, another loonlet.

Lunchtime!

As we watched from our drifting boat, a different Mom coaxed her loonlet to begin diving. Using distance, rewards, and disappearance under the water, Mom progressively encouraged the little one to go under and forage.

Someone else is hungry.

The lesson was disrupted at times by the appearance of the juvenile eagle. Mom sang nervously, and Junior stayed close. The loonlet can’t learn too soon. Diving is both for feeding and escape from predators. And photographers.