59 degrees Foggy Calm
What a difference a day makes!
Where yesterday there sat a beautiful loon, today there is only a pile of cattails and other weeds.
From life to lifeless.
There is still a certain beauty to the loon nest but it is totally different than it was just 24 hours ago. Even though we knew that there was no egg left on the nest yesterday and therefore there was no hope of a new loon chick this year, we still had our loon.
The beautiful, faithful loon that we had come to love.
Now there is a sense of melancholy when we look at the nest.
Somewhere out in the banks of fog that cover the lake this morning, our pair of loons are going on with their lives. A single call of a loon comes through the thick fog to let us know that they are still there. That haunting call that changes everything! That stands out so distinctively from all the other sounds. From all the other birds.
The call that stirs something deep within us. Something almost primeval.
That brings back memories of a childhood in a cabin on a northern lake. Or memories of a camping trip in the wilderness. Of laying in the tent and hearing loons calling.
No other call of any bird has the power to move us in quite the same way.
And combine the call of a loon with the fog on the lake this morning, there is a something that moves us deeply. A mood, a mist and a melancholy.
What could be more perfect? It brings healing to the soul.
While we would love to have our loon sitting in full view for us on the nest, we take comfort in the fact that we know they are where they are meant to be. Swimming freely somewhere out on the lake on this foggy morning. Doing what they were created to do.
So this morning, rather than think about too much else or think too deeply, we simply settle back and drink in all the sights and sounds around us. To enjoy the moment. To smile. To hear our loon calling somewhere out in the mist. Tomorrow will have enough problems of its own.
This moment is perfect.
A lake, a loon and a brooding fog.