nichepoetryandprose

One of the very enjoyable experiences of having a property near the lake is listening to the loons.  There is a least one pair of loons on our lake and we see them often.  Usually they call a few times at mid-day or in the evening.  Their cries are varied, ranging from a laughing tremolo to distinctive and melancholy wails, hoots, and yodels.   

We have always been interested in loons and the protection of their habitat.  Loons are especially vulnerable to quickly changing water levels and wave action because they build their nests just at water level.  `Watch Your Wake` programs help boaters protect loon habitat.

In 1994, we participated briefly in the North American Loon Project.  Today there is a similar program, the Canadian Lakes Loon Survey, sponsored by Bird Studies Canada.  This is a long term study, using data from volunteers, to assess the health of Canada’s loon population.   

We had little time in those days to participate fully, but we did visit Peltoma Lake in southern New Brunswick, to look at the loons living there.  My journal entry for our visit to Peltoma Lake reads:

May 1, 1994  Sunday

Trip to Peltoma Lake to see if there are any loons.  We are preparing to canoe the lake

about three times this year to make observations.  Disappointed at first

as the lake is lined with cottages and we could see no loons. 

Then we stopped near a small bay and there they were

– nine black and white beauties!     They left the cove as soon as they saw us.

I also wrote a poem about the lake – the mood of the poem suggests it must have been a damp and miserable day.

Last Sunday, we drove out to Peltoma Lake to take some photographs.   The loons and most of the people are gone this time of year.   Although it was cold, the lake sparkled in the sunlight and was anything but dreary.

Peltoma Lake– Sunbury County

~

Peltoma in rain

is a faded black and white photo

layers of misery, thick and still

the lake, the shore, the mist

the thin chill drizzle

~

in the coves

the cedar and birch swoon above the water

moved to tears at reflection

the lake broods

over her loons

and the cell-thick pall of algae

smoothed to the shore

~

cottages hug the lake

like campers huddle a fire

cheerless and smoky

pines on the esker reach

blank windows keep watch

for sparkle on waves 

back flips from the dock

paddles flashing sun

the day is bleak without answer

~

a muskrat tows a line on the shallows

loons quit the cove

diminish to mist

~

Peltoma is scowling

~

© Jane Tims  1994