Learning from Loons

I first saw them in May about a half mile down the lake from my cabin – a pair of mating loons. I turned my boat away from them, giving them room and not wanting to interrupt their ritual. They were close to the island that sits in the lake in front of my place and I wondered if they were planning to nest there thinking it would be nice to have them as neighbors for the summer. I heard later from a friend that this year we had about a dozen or more pair of loons setting up home on our lake – a good sign that the ecology was once again turning favorable for this delicate and beautiful species of bird.

I’m attracted to loons because of the unique way they live. When they mate, the male and female share almost every aspect of the mating, hatching, and raising of their young, usually a single chick or a pair. The male takes turns sitting on the eggs and when the young are hatched they take turns seeking out food for their young.

For a time I didn’t see them but at night I often heard their calls. I wondered if it were the same pair and wasn’t sure in the still night air how close or distant they might be. Then a few weeks later I saw one of them again alone with two chicks on a very calm water day. The chicks looked fuzzy and new and periodically she would allow them onto her back to hitch a ride. I admired her patience and persistence as a teacher. She took care of their needs and safety, helped them when they needed a hand, but also pushed them to their learning edge. She had just one short summer to teacher them all they needed to know to survive. They needed to be competent swimmers and to learn to dive for fish. At the same time she had to keep them safe from predators. Our lake is now home to two or three bald eagles and loon chicks make easy prey for them if their parents are not forever vigilant. Large pickerel that inhabit the weedy sections of the shore have also been seen to snatch a young chick for a tasty meal.

They gave me pause to think of our modern day parenting of our own human species. All we have is a few short years to help our kids learn the skills, attitudes, and knowledge they need to be able to safely navigate the river of life. We have to keep them out of harm’s way but at the same time we must engage them in learning experiences that will strengthen their capacity to handle the bad weather days and the ever changing nature of life. Successful parenting has many edges too it. Too much safety and not enough experience won’t work just as being thrown to the wolves too soon without protection doesn’t work either. Mother Loon seemed to have just the right balance. An occasional dunking of the chicks didn’t bother her but when they strayed too far she quickly gathered them to her.

A week later they were back again but this time as a foursome. Mother and chicks who were already much bigger were together right in front of my place while the male was further down the lake seeking out juicy baitfish for the family. From time to time they called to each other – a call that seemed to be simply checking in to let each other know they were close at hand. After a time mother gave the well known tremolo call to which her mate responded and began swimming back towards her. Was she asking for help? Or had it been long enough and now she wanted to return the chicks to dry land? Either way they she got his attention and the foursome swam away together toward the island.

I wondered how well we parents of humans instinctively communicate with each other like this when its time for a change of activity. Do we simply heed and respond to the call or do we try to create a different outcome with logic and persuasion. How much more simple might life be if we just recognized the need and responded?

Within the next few months the chicks grew in size and became big enough and skilled enough to fend for themselves. By early September they had left their parents to team up with other juveniles on the lake. The teenage pack roamed the lake together for another four weeks or so before reluctantly flying off to the coast for the winter. Their parents had long departed by then with now nothing to lose, having completed their parental obligation and gained their freedom. That one seems to be a tough lesson in parenting - letting go when the job is done. In seven years the young will return here to mate themselves and continue the cycle of life. I feel blessed to have had this little family of loons as neighbors and teachers this year.