My dad and I drove down to the coast before dawn, met up with Dr. Paul Spitzer, who is working on a study of Common Loon migration, and helped him count birds as they flew north.
Today was not a big morning, we had some lulls where we listened to soras whinnying, black-bellied plovers calling, watched cormorants and herons flying off their roosts, a raccoon foraging in the mud flats, an eagle fly over, and waterfowl coming and going as the sun rose. When we did spot loons, they were often high above the horizon, having gained altitude during their flight towards the coast from out in the Gulf. They flap their wings 3 times a second and have a distinctive profile in the air - their legs sticking out beyond their short tail. They are water birds, heavily boned for swimming and diving, not exactly graceful fliers, but they manage a long migration. They don't fly in a v pattern like geese or ducks, but rather alone or within a short distance from one or two other loons. A few birds passed by only to turn and head back south, aborting the mission for some reason only they know - weather conditions not prime, flight muscles not quite ready?
Mosquitoes came out for a short window, but had dispersed by the time the sun was up. The wind was steady from the south, and before 9, a cloud bank had moved in, threatening rain. By then the morning count was finished. Migration will continue until around April 10. By then most of the birds that should have left will have left.
I hope the loons have a productive season on the lakes of the northwoods, enchanting so many paddlers with their yodels, wails, and tremolos, the chicks parading on the adults' back, and their sheer beauty, and I look forward to their return south next fall as the lakes begin to freeze over.
