Rain and Rewards

The cabin is filled with people. My wife's sister and her family from New Jersey are in town and enjoying a long week at Blueberry Lake. My in-laws are there and we have brought our entire crew. Lots of laughter, lots of fun, and yet very little elbow room.

Along with my wife and my five-year old, I slept lakeside in the tent. I awoke early to the sounds of rain. Silently I laid in the sleeping bag and listened to the calming rain. The lake is low, things are dry, and the rain is needed. But with the rain comes a very crowded cabin, and a couple of games of Scrabble.

After several hours of intermittent rain the skies cleared and it looked as though we were finally going to get some sunshine. Several of the adults moved outside to play some Bocce Ball. However, instead of participating in the game, I look for some brief solitude. I grab my rain gear, my fishing rod, and hop into my kayak. Because of the threat of rain I leave my camera behind. Truly a mistake.

There is a nesting pair of Bald Eagles on Blueberry, just north of the cabin. It has been fun this summer watching these adults raise their young. In May we discovered their nests atop a lakeside white pine. In late June we could hear the constant chatter of eaglets. In July my in-laws watched them trying to learn how to fly. Now, in early August their chatter is constant and their wings take them on short trips around our side of the lake.

As I paddle towards the lake's small island I can see the white head of a Bald Eagle perched on a branch and can hear the eaglets squawking. Although I am certain there are two eaglets I can see and hear only one of them running around and flapping its wings. Then as I move slowly around the island I notice that the second adult is also perched on a branch. Neither adult is looking over the water, but is instead observing their eaglet. But then as I move just a bit farther I see that there are indeed two eaglets on the ground. Silently I position my kayak so that I can drift by the island and watch the eaglets play with each other. And then it starts to rain.

Shortly after the rain begins I hear the call of a loon. I know it is close. Minutes later I hear the call again and this time see the loon off the starboard side of the kayak. I put my paddle in the water and noiselessly maneuver the boat. I try to stay out of the loon's space as I do not want to frighten it away. But instead the loon continues its haunting call and continues to paddle towards me.

I am captivated by the moment.

In front of me I am watching two adult Bald Eagles and two baby eaglets. To my right is the loon. I am so close to the loon that I can see its beak moving as it provides me with its call. Eventually the loon comes within about three to four paddle lengths of my boat, moves silently behind me, and eventually ends up on the other side. After several more minutes of observing these great fishers I paddle away, leaving the loon and the eagles to continue to do their thing. Thankful that I was able to witness this splendid theater.