71 degrees Cloudy Calm
There is something oddly reassuring about the scene of the loon faithfully sitting on the nest again this morning.
After having to once again adjust the camera last night because of it having been blown loose on its mounting as the storm moved through yesterday, it is good to see that the loons have taken that interruption in stride as well as all the other natural challenges that they face. After the camera moving for the second time in a wind storm, I realized that what may be causing the problem is that one of the willow branches on the nest was blowing and hitting the camera and knocking its new mount out of alignment.
So after a 'haircut' of the offending willow branch and a few other remedial measures in the pitch blackness, hopefully the camera is securely aimed at the nest for the rest of the saga of our loons nesting for the year. And that all they and we will have to worry about are eagles and fish and muskrats and "intruding" loons and wind and hail and baking sun and boats and jet skis and a thousand and one other challenges our loons face as they struggle to raise a new generation of loons.
All of these challenges are things that loons all over have to face on a daily basis.
But because they are out of our sight, they are also out of our minds. What we do not see, we do not worry about.
But because we have seen these loons close-up, we feel like we have come to know them. No longer are they some nebulous technical description in a birding book or a background player in a novel. They are "our" loons. They are our friends. And we have come to care deeply about them. To care deeply about what happens to them. To live their challenges with them. To understand in a whole new way what really goes on all around us every day in nature's realm.
And that is one of the beauties of the LoonCam.
To see things that in a million years we would never have the opportunity to see in any other way. To understand in a whole new way. And to care about like we have never cared about before.
And so the silhouette of a loon sitting on a pair of eggs on a nest on a northern lake in the northernmost state of the 48 states, is somehow "oddly reassuring" this morning.
On a Sunday morning with all its own implications of new life and a new start to a new week, the fact that the loon is still there .... faithful .... still dedicated to nurturing the new life that is developing in the eggs beneath it .... is an inspiration and a sermon of its own. That in spite of all the challenges that each one of us face every day, the promise of new life is there. That we can make it. That with all of the evil in the world there is also overwhelming goodness and beauty.
May your Sunday be one of mind-blowing, overwhelming goodness and beauty. Take some time today to stop and see it. Take some time today to stop and be a part of "causing" some of that goodness and beauty for someone else.
That may be the true 'lesson of the loons' this morning.