October 13, 1988 - When the Loon Calls, Winter ComesOctober 13, 1988/The Suffolk Times /Page 11 A
When the Loon Calls, Winter Comes
By Paul Stoutenburah
When sailing the other day I was glad
to see the return of loons to our local
waters after their summer on some
lonely lake far to the north. Should any
of you have been lucky enough to get to
the northern states or Canada, I hope
you had the opportunity to see and hear
these old friends on their breeding
grounds.
From now until spring loons will be
found along our bays, Sound and ocean
fronts. Loons are expert divers; some-
how they manage to find enough to eat
along the dimly lit bottoms to keep
them through the long winter months.
They are big birds and would rather
dive than fly. Their streamlined bodies
and powerful feet make them experts
underwater. They can keep submerged
for a considerable time and often, when
chased, only bring their head out for a
quick breath before returning to safety
below.
In their summer breeding plumage
they are handsome with a glossy black
head and neck and a white collar. The
back is speckled black and white while
the throat and underparts are white. Now
in their winter plumage they become
more drab with mottled gray above and
white throat and underparts.
I'm sure you've all heard the expres-
sion "crazy as a loon." It refers to the
call the loon makes, one of nature's
most thrilling sounds and not at all a
crazy call. I remember when I was a
small boy and entertained myself by
calling across the bay to loons feeding. I
was in a rowboat, lying on the bottom
Focus on
Nature
so the birds couldn't see me, and as a
loon would call I would mimic it.
Calling Back and Forth
From their quiet world they would
answer with their strangely lilting call.
I'd answer and soon they were all around
my boat. I was in a world of my own. I
peeked over the gunnel of the boat and I
could see the long - pointed bill so
essential for underwater fishing. Up
close I could see how large they were,
somewhere between a duck and a goose.
It was a wonderful and memorable occa-
sion.
Loons are not on the hunting list but
I'm afraid many are shot at by the uned-
ucated hunter. What saves them is their
aloofness and their mistrust of man.
They do not fly spontaneously as other
ducks do when trying to escape but
rather they disappear to safety below,
leaving the pursuer bewildered.
Loons have a difficult time in today's
world. They nest on remote and lonely
lakes to the north and we know how few
of these are left, what with man's intru-
sion with his array of motorized vehi-
cles. Coupled with the need of a plenti-
ful supply of fish, less and less avail-
able with acid rain sterilizing our lakes
and rivers, we get some idea of the
loon's plight.
Should the loon make it through the
nesting period, it faces the curse of oil
spills, plastics along the sea bottom
where it feeds and, of course, man's un-
educated gun. The loon also accumulates
all sorts of pesticide residue in the food
it eats. No wonder we're seeing fewer of
these handsome winter visitors.
Good and Bad Days of Fall
September and October can be the
most beautiful time of the year. Being
the hurricane season and the time when
the north wind starts to test its strength,
it can also be pretty uncertain. Already
we have had frost in the center of the
island. Manorville and Ridge are often
cooler than the East End by 10 degrees.
The reason is salt water that practi-
cally surrounds us, giving us that added
edge of warmth. It's one of the primary
reasons the grape industry is able to do
so well out here. We have at least a
month longer growing season than up-
state. Just last week friends from Maine
said their trees had turned already and
ours haven't really started. Some things,
if you look closely, such as the Virginia
creeper and poison ivy have turned their
reddish fall color. The sarsaparilla and
false Solomon's seal in our woods have
lost their green and turned to yellow.
The fall asters that line the roadside
along with late goldenrod surely tell us
fall is here.
Read all about it • The Suffolk TimeS
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Baby turtles that developed during the
warmth of summer are now feeling the
chill of the air. Being cold blooded they
take them a long time to warm up be-
fore they get into motion. I'm sure their
instinct has told them to start looking
for a place to hibernate. They'll find a
soft spot in the woody duff of the forest
floor or for water turtles in the muddy
bottom where they'll dig in and stay
while the winter roars above. During
this long sleep their heartbeat will
hardly be noticeable. They'll seem to be
almost dead until spring triggers them
awake.
Winter Takes Over
The outdoors is mustering itself for
winter. Soon the leaves will fall and
become part of the mulch that nurtures
the forest. The lifeblood of sap will stop
flowing and as the north winds blow
through naked branches, the trees will
rest till spring. a rabbit, fluffed up be-
cause of the cold, will munch on some
dormant, low twigs. The squirrel will be
curled up in a knot in his treehouse of
leaves swaying in the wind.
Chickadees, woodpeckers, and nut-
hatches will peck and probe for frozen
insects and eggs hidden from winter's
blast. A deer, always alert, will walk
like a shadow, stopping here and there
to sense the air. The owl will hunt on
silent wings at night looking with its
big eyes and listening with hidden ears
for its prey below.
Winter once more will rule the woods
till the sun starts to climb closer and
closer back to the north and once again
it will be spring.
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