A Lesson From Loons

My family and I have a lake cottage in northern Wisconsin. It’s located a little over 100 miles north of the stress line, which is otherwise known as the city of Wausau.

The part of northern Wisconsin we visit has more fresh water lakes than anywhere else in the world. Yes, there are mosquitoes, black flies, and deer flies and, on occasion, they’re all so thick that we end up spending most of the day in the screened in porch. Whoever invented screen must have been from the Northwood’s of Wisconsin! But there are also bald eagles, osprey, lake otter, mallard and wood ducks, grouse, deer, coyotes, wolves, and black bear. It’s really interesting how much faster a morning’s walk becomes once you’ve seen a black bear cub fall out of a tree. And then there’s the Common Loon.

From my perspective, the Common Loon is best of all Northwood’s wildlife. We are blessed to have three loon nests on our lake. Our family enjoys the simple pleasure of watching loons as they feed and, nearly every year, we watch infant loons grow to adolescence, and prepare for their first migratory venture. During the summer months, loons live on the freshwater lakes of North America. They are divers—fish-eating specialists that can descend as much as 200’ to catch pike, perch, sunfish, and bass. Watching loons ready for flight is one of the most comical visuals known to humankind. It takes most loons a good 100 yards to lift off, and nearly another 100 years to land. But on the water, loons are the most graceful—and beautiful waterfowl that I have ever seen.

Loons are best known by their most distinctive feature which is their call—think Katharine Hepburn and Henry Fonda in the 1981 film, On Golden Pond. Loons generally have four calls. According to experts, the Tremolo—sometimes called the “laughing call,” is characterized by a short, wavering quality. Loons use the tremolo call to signal distress or perceived threats. The Yodel is a long, complex call that is only made by male loons. Every male is said to have a unique Yodel, which changes if the loon changes territory. (Please, avoid the puns in your comments) And then there’s a loon’s wail, which consists of up to three notes. Wails are really easy to discern, and it is the call of which most people are familiar. A wail communicates the location of one loon to another. Finally, there is the hoot call. I’ve never heard a hoot call as it is a more intimate call than the wail, and it is used exclusively between small family groups. The hoot is often heard when adult loons are inviting their chicks to feed.

So why talk about loons in a blog about leadership?

Loons teach us to slow down, listen, and find beauty in simple things. Loons are steady, faithful participants in the cycle of life. They protect their young, tremolo if they’ve lost site of one of their chicks, work together for survival, regroup if tragedy strikes, and do it all again the next year—and the next. A loon’s call summons us to listen to the more important things in life. It’s absolutely impossible to sit out on a summer evening—alone, or with a loved one, or with friends—and not be in an absolute state of wonder every time a loon calls. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, a loon’s call is really a moment of invitation to reflect, to give thanks, and to be in wonder.

Reflecting.

Giving thanks.

Abiding in wonder.

It’s easy to be inspired by leadership with that kind of sensitivity.

And, now, enjoy the video I was able to capture of an eagle catching what my son called “his dinner”, and where two loons are alerting others to possible danger.