Monday, May 7, 2012 5:35am CDT

Travis Frank May 7, 2012

49 degrees F Clear Calm

Sunrise 5:52am Sunset 8:27pm

Today promises that we will have a little bit of a break from the rain that has brought so much moisture over the last few days.

A clear sky and just a few ripples on the lake greet our loons this morning as the sun is about to rise.

Last night shortly before dark, I saw a single loon not too far from the nest as what was apparently 'our loons' swam together across the lake.

The single loon looked decidedly smaller but it was hard to tell for sure without them being close to each other.

It is unusual to see another loon in the territory without a response from the pair of loons. So the questions continue.

And the wait for the loons to decide if it is time to lay an egg continues.

The loons were on the nest a number of times yesterday. And the amount of time spent on the nest each time seems to be increasing along with increased nest building activity. I am not sure when they did it but I just noticed yesterday that one small clump of iris is completely gone from the right side of the nest. I have never seen a pair of loons do as much "excavating" as this pair are doing.

But so far, a lot of activity but no eggs.

So we wait.

While we wait, will you allow me the privilege of sharing something completely unrelated?

A few of you have commented on a small bird that has visited the nest several times. Some have wondered if it is a sandpiper. I do not know my other birds well enough to say definitively but that sounds as good as any other guess.

But hearing of and seeing that sandpiper on the nest, reminded me of a story I had heard many years ago but had not thought about for sometime.

It is called "The Sandpiper " and it summarizes so well what is really important in the 'busyness' of our lives. I have seen it variously attributed to Robert Peterson or Ruth Peterson. I hope you enjoy it but you may wish to have some tissues handy.

THE SANDPIPER

by Robert Peterson

She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live.

I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world
begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something
and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.

“Hello,” she said.

I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.

“I’m building,” she said.

“I see that. What is it?” I asked, not really caring.

“Oh, I don’t know, I just like the feel of sand.”

That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.

A sandpiper glided by.

“That’s a joy,” the child said.

“It’s a what?”

“It’s a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy.”

The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to
myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life
seemed completely out of balance.

“What’s your name?” She wouldn’t give up.

“Robert,” I answered. “I’m Robert Peterson.”

“Mine’s Wendy… I’m six.”

“Hi, Wendy.”

She giggled. “You’re funny,” she said.

In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on.
Her musical giggle followed me.

“Come again, Mr. P,” she called. “We’ll have another happy day..”

The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings,
and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out
of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.

The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was
chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.

“Hello, Mr. P,” she said. “Do you want to play?”

“What did you have in mind?” I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.

“I don’t know. You say.”

“How about charades?” I asked sarcastically.

The tinkling laughter burst forth again. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Then let’s just walk.”

Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.

“Where do you live?” I asked.

“Over there.” She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.

Strange, I thought, in winter.

“Where do you go to school?”

“I don’t go to school.. Mommy says we’re on vacation”

She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was
on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day.
Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.

Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic I was in no
mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt
like demanding she keep her child at home.

“Look, if you don’t mind,” I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, “I’d
rather be alone today.” She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.

“Why?” she asked.

I turned to her and shouted, “Because my mother died!” and thought,

My God, why was I saying this to a little child?

“Oh,” she said quietly, “then this is a bad day.”

“Yes,” I said, “and yesterday and the day before and….. oh, go away!”

“Did it hurt?” she inquired.

“Did what hurt?” I was exasperated with her, with myself.

“When she died?”

“Of course it hurt!” I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.

A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there.

Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up
to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking
young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.

“Hello,” I said, “I’m Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today
and wondered where she was.”

“Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much.
I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance,
please, accept my apologies.”

“Not at all! she’s a delightful child.” I said, suddenly realizing
that I meant what I had just said.

“Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia
Maybe she didn’t tell you.”

Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.

“She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no.
She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.
But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly…” Her voice faltered, “She left
something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I
look?”

I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young
woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with “MR. P” printed in bold
childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues, a yellow beach,
a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love
opened wide.. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,
I’m so sorry,” I uttered over and over, and we wept together The precious little
picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words — one for each year
of her life — that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.

A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand,
who taught me the gift of love.

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NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20 years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other. The price of hating other human beings is loving oneself less. Life is so complicated, the hustle and bustle of everyday traumas can make us lose focus about what is truly important or what is only a momentary setback or crisis. This week, be sure to give your loved ones an extra hug, and by all means, take a moment... even if it is only ten seconds, to stop and smell the roses. This comes from someone's heart, and is read by many and now I share it with you... May God Bless everyone who receives this! There are NO coincidences! Everything that happens to us happens for a reason. Never brush aside anyone as insignificant. Who knows what they can teach us?

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Today, as we wait for the loons, I wish you A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.

Comments or Questions? LoonCam(at)yahoo(dot)com

Sunday, May 6, 2012 5:35am CDT

Travis Frank May 6, 2012

56 degrees Raining Wind 2 mph S

Sunrise 5:53am Sunset 8:26pm

In the first early light of a Minnesota dawn, two loons quietly swim right next to the nesting platform. Lazily floating 'round and 'round.

A steady drizzle hits the nest and speckles the calm surface of the lake.

We continue a wet weather pattern that has seen thunderstorm after thunderstorm move through. This morning it is just a quiet, gentle rain. But more rain and storms are predicted for most of today.

The loons could care less. Even though they are so beautiful and brilliant on a bright sunny day, they are at home in the water. Whether they are swimming in it or whether it is coming down on them from above.

Water is their element.

Nesting time is one of the few times in their life that they come to land.

For someone who is so graceful on and under the water and so clumsy and awkward on land, it must be a real sacrifice and struggle for them to have to get out of the water and spend time on land. But it is a sacrifice they make each year to ensure that there is a new generation of loons to enrich our lives for years to come.

And each generation of loons does enrich our lives for many years to come. For you see, loons are very long lived birds. No one knows for sure how long loons live but we do know that they can live for 25 to 30 years. That is many years of beauty and haunting calls that tell us we are in the north woods.

As the loons wait, so we wait. Wait in anticipation of an egg.

Wait in anticipation of beautiful, little baby loonlings.

Comments or Questions? LoonCam(at)yahoo(dot)com

Saturday, May 5, 2012 5:03am CDT

Travis Frank May 5, 2012

51 degrees Cloudy Wind 2mph N

Sunrise 5:55am Sunset 8:25am

In the first tiny bits of daylight, I can just barely make out the silhouettes of two loons floating between the nest and the shore.

This seems to be somewhat new behavior this year of spending the nights close to the nest. I am sure it has happened before but I just have not seen it this often. Then at dawn they swim by the nest to check it out, and may even get up on the nest and then swim off into the lake.

This particular pair of loons seems to come closer in to shore than seen in previous years.

The more we learn, the more we realize how little we truly know.

There is a whole drama of life that takes place all around us every day. And 99% of it we never see.

We have been reminded of that fact on other cams over the last few days.

Nature is magnificent and beautiful to see close up like we are able to do with this webcam and others. But it doesn't always follow some happily ever after script. Sometimes it can be heartbreaking and cruel. And sometimes it doesn't follow our benign view of what we would like to happen. But that is sometimes what we forget.

Now I am not saying any of that in reference to what we have seen here so far. But it is just a good reminder that we need to be realistic in our expectations of what we see. And maybe that is one of the great services of wildlife webcams - that we have a whole new understanding of some of the challenges that wildlife faces on a day to day basis that we never stop to think about. If we learn nothing other than that, our viewing of wildlife webcams will be a great learning experience.

Here on the LoonCam, we still hold on to the hope of new life and not of difficulty.

We hope with all our hope that every time the loon gets on the nest that 'this' will be the time that she lays the first egg. But so far she has not. And it is important to remind ourselves that we are still within the 'normal' range for laying of eggs.

The early spring has made us anxious.

Reports of other loons having already nested and laid eggs makes us wonder about this pair of loons.

But once again we must remember that we are only spectators. No matter how much we want to do something, there is nothing we can do that will 'make' her lay an egg. And that reminds us once again what a miracle that laying of the egg and new life out of it truly is. With all our much vaunted knowledge, no scientist knows how to do what the loons can do. And no scientist can create a little loon.

All of the signs continue to be positive and hopeful even if the arrival of the egg has not been as quick as we would like.

The loons are spending increasing amounts of time on the nest.

The nest building behavior continues.

In fact, in some ways there has been 'too much' nest building.I am not sure if we have moved from the "War of the Pansies" to the "War of the Irises".

The pansies have taken a beating from being sat on and nibbled and pulled and prodded. But they both still hang on. And even try to bloom.

But the last day or two, one clump of irises have also taken a beating.

In all the nest-building behavior, the loons completely dug around the clump of irises on the left. Then having dug around it, they began pulling on the roots themselves and the clump. They have completely pulled it loose and out of the nesting material. It now sits at a cockeyed angle on the edge of the nest.

If you look carefully, you can see all the roots now exposed to the air on the right hand side of the clump that they have pulled up toward the nest.

It illustrates the strength of the loons. That is not a small or insignificant clump. It has significant weight to it but the loons have been able to get it loose and actually pull it up towards the nest. But the irises are as hardy as the loons themselves. And they will no doubt try to put down roots in the new place they have been 'planted'.

The next time you see the loons on the nest, pay special attention to the loon's wingtips. The wingtips are long and slender. But notice how they make almost a perfect "X" as they cross over the top of the tail. I won't say anything more than that right now. Just notice that "X" over the top of the tail.

After they have laid an egg and are on the nest all the time, I will point out something else to you. But just notice and remember that for now.

Will today be the day for the first egg?

Once again, we can only watch and wait and hope.

Comments or Questions? LoonCam(at)yahoo(dot)com

Friday, May 4, 2012 6:09am CDT

Travis Frank May 4, 2012

50 degrees F Mostly Cloudy Wind 5mph NE

Sunrise 5:56am Sunset 8:23pm

Our loons have been up on the nest already this morning for a very brief visit.

But so far no egg. So once again we can only watch and wait. The egg will come. In its time, not ours.

In the early morning light, you can see how deep and perfectly formed the loons have made the nest bowl. In the high light of midday, it looks much flatter and you can't really see how well formed it is.

The next several days promise more rain and scattered thunderstorms. Nothing is predicted to be severe but then severe weather usually does not give a long warning of its arrival. But until there is an egg on the nest, the loons can handle almost anything.

Let me give you a couple hints of what to watch for that signals that we are getting nearer to laying an egg.

First of all, we have seen some of the signs.

An increased frequency of visits to the nest. And longer visits.

When she is getting close to laying an egg, you will see more subtle body movements as she sits on the nest.

Then she will sort of crawl up on the edge of the nest bowl and spread her wings to brace herself. You will see increased small body movements that indicate the egg is moving down through the egg canal inside her body.

And then the egg will just pop out.

Most of the times I have observed it, it has happened fairly quickly. Within just a couple minutes from start to finish. But last year or the year before, I forget which without looking back at the records, she struggled mightily to lay that first egg. I started to get concerned about her.

But then the egg did appear.

However, after she laid the egg, she stayed on the nest for almost half an hour. Most of the time with her wings spread as she just laid there. Totally exhausted.

It was difficult to watch. I began to wonder if she had injured herself in that difficult egg laying. But soon she recovered and back into the water she went.

Her second egg that year was laid with much less difficulty.

Most of the time the second egg is laid a couple days after the first egg.

So once again today, we wait.

It is all up to the loons now.

Even if we wanted to, there is nothing we could do to speed things up or slow things down.

We are mere spectators in the great drama of life.

A drama that happens around us every day. But a drama that we very seldom get to witness and observe up close like we do here at the LoonCam.

So enjoy it today. As the next act of this great drama unfolds.

Comments or Questions? LoonCam(at)yahoo(dot)com

Thursday, May 3, 2012 7:26am CDT

Travis Frank May 3, 2012

60 degrees F Cloudy Wind 3mph NE

Sunrise 5:57am Sunset 8:22pm

Both loons sit on the nest face to face as I write this.

Each time they get up on the nest one can only wonder 'Will this time be the time?'

One of these times, it will be the time.

And then everything will change. Once there is an egg on the nest, the loons will be there almost any time you look at the cam. The egg becomes an anchor. Something that binds them to the nest for the next month.

But until then, they will come and go.

One can't help but wonder if 'this one' might be the time.

However, we are only spectators. We can only watch and wait. And hope. There is nothing we can do which will speed up the egg laying. Nor slow it down. The loons are the ones who determine everything that happens.

We need to remind ourselves that we are still well within the 'normal range' for laying of eggs on this nest. So there is still no need for concern even though we become impatient.

Today there are still thunderstorms moving through the state but none that are threatening the loon nest right now.

There were heavy winds and rains during the middle of the night last night but so far the nest is holding up.

Last night was an active night for other wildlife as well.

The muskrat made several visits and there was a report that the beaver once again was up on the nest (although I was on the phone and missed the beaver visit).

Something happened after the first beaver visit that I did not tell you about. As you may know, when the beaver visited before he decided to make a meal of some of the willow branches on one corner of the nest. Willow branches that are meant to keep eagles from swooping directly down on the nest. The willow branches on that corner of the nest are now just stubs.

The branches on the other corner of the nest where the camera is mounted are still intact.

I was concerned not only for those willows but even moreso for the television and sound cables that come down along the camera mount. It would take only one bite by the beaver to sever those cables and we would lose everything for the year. Video and sound would be gone and with the loons getting close to nesting, there would probably be no chance to replace them.

The muskrat could do the same damage. Just that he would not do it as fast as the beaver. It might take several chomps by the muskrat before he severed the cables. Whereas the beaver could do it in one chomp.

So a couple weeks ago when the loons were no where near the nest, I once again made my way out to the nest with what I hoped might be at least a partial solution.

I sprayed the willows and cables and mounting pole with hot pepper wax!

For those of you who are gardners, you know what that is. It is just what it sounds like. Hot peppers in a spray solution. It is used to keep deer and rabbits and other critters from munching on things in the garden.

Will it work here? We can only hope it will.

Hopefully one taste by either the beaver of the muskrat will convince them that this is not something they want to gnaw on.

That is unless we have a Mexican beaver or muskrat that LIKES hot food!

Over the last few days there have been several instances of a 'mating behavior' that I have never seen before and was quite hilarious to watch. For lack of a better description, you could call it the "sitting on her head" behavior.

I am not sure if it is inexperience on the part of the male or if something else is going on. But it has been funny to watch as the male mounted the female. Although he did not quite get the 'alignment' right and he simply fell over on top of the female and just sat on her head!

You could hear the female making some muffled noises as the male sat on her head. It was as if she was saying, "My mother told me not to go with you. She said you didn't know what you were doing. And that you would never amount to anything. But did I listen. NO! Now GET OFF ME! Get off my head!"

And with that she literally had to almost carry the male along with her as she moved to get out from under him and off the nest. Several of our faithful viewers caught the whole episode on video and you can see one of the videos here (sorry that I can't post all of them but thank you to all of you!). It happens starting at about the 4 minute mark of this video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxVnv7BMNFM&feature=youtu.be

So have a good laugh this morning as you wait for eggs to arrive.

Comments or Questions? LoonCam(at)yahoo(dot)com

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