Fall is really the only decent time of year to find loons on Colpoy’s Bay.  The legs of a loon are set very far back on its body, which is ideal for propulsion through the water.  Unfortunately this makes them terribly clumsy on land, to the point that they can barely walk (and taking off from anywhere but a long stretch of water downright impossible).  The consequence of this is that loons must nest right at the water’s edge, despite the risk of a washout — any further from shore, and they’d be helpless.  Mallory Beach, as a popular cottaging community, is therefore far too disturbed and unpredictable for nesting, but autumn brings migrants in good numbers.

Sunrise on Colpoy's Bay

Nearly every morning this past week I’ve been out at the dock at sunrise, while the waters are still calm and the birds easy to spot on the glittering surface.  I sketched loons.  I sketched lots and lots of loons.

In fall, the adult birds moult out of their velvety blacks and into the warm greys they sport throughout the winter.  Most of the birds were still heavily in moult, allowing me to recognize some of the same individuals day after day.  It’s interesting to note who hangs out with who, and that the same pairs remain together (perhaps mated birds, who, although they often remain together for life, don’t always winter on the same waters).

It’s times like these that the importance of field work is driven home.  I put together a dive sequence from my collection of sketches, something I could never have done from mere photos.  Determining where a loon will pop up is not so easy, but a bit of observation will tell you when they are about to go under.  The bill opens, and the primaries slowly rise off the bird’s back as it fills its lungs.  Dives usually last under a minute, but they can remain under for several more if pressed.

Common loon dive sequence.

I’ll be back up the peninsula in a few weeks, perhaps for some more sketches.  It’s unfortunate that I only get to enjoy these birds on the bay once a year.  Who could ever tire of loons?

Common loon (field study in watercolour and crayon)

I headed up to the cottage last Saturday for Thanksgiving with the family and then stayed the week. The reds have already faded from the fall palette, but the yellows and oranges are peaking on the Bruce. Warm weather, clear blue skies and … mmm, buttertarts. What more could you ask for? Well, maybe loons. We had plenty of those, too.

Dad took us on a boat ride for a view of the autumn colours on the escarpment. Lynn and I both agreed: drive faster, Papa!

Yes, that is my big dutch foot.

With October comes the late migrants: kinglets, sparrows and thrushes. Hermit thrushes don’t like to be caught in the open, but curiosity sometimes gets the better of them.

Checking me out with one eye. Profile sketches are easier anyway.

The full moon rose to mark the end of the year’s last long weekend. Sigh. I think we ought to trade winter for a second autumn.

Inuksuk, with delicious pizza slice.