Leaping

I was tired and had already been in my car too long running errands earlier in the day but something pushed me out of my comfy chair in my peaceful home. I grabbed my tripod and camera and only one lens….the glorious little beastie, the Nikon 14-24 2.8.

There wasn’t a lot of color in the sky when I arrived at the beach but soft hues create gentle images so I played around under the pier and then headed east, away from condos and into undeveloped shoreline.

Maybe 500 yards from the pier I came upon a loon. Not a human dressed in black socks and sandals sporting a hawaiian shirt drinking beer and littering cans all over the beach…a real loon. The bird. Specifically a Common Loon.

She was sitting on the lip of the sand, just out of reach of the water. Loons cannot walk because their legs are so far back on their bodies. They are diving birds and spend most of their time in the water, only coming on land for nesting. (This particular one was a juvenile…which I’m still puzzling about since they typically don’t nest here but back to the story).

The bird was alert, appeared uninjured and was tolerant but wary when I slowly approached. There was no blood or indications of any problems except the obvious one–she was not in the water. She just anxiously looked at the water and then back at me. I understand that look of longing and could feel her desire to be back in her element.

It was almost dark and concerned that coyotes would make a meal out of the grounded bird, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Nobody was available to come check on her. But heck, I thought, I used to be the state park naturalist here, I can help this bird. I worked with all kinds of birds here in the 80’s.

The beaks are very sharp but I didn’t want to handle the bird anyway. Like I used to teach scuba students, self-rescue is always best. So I spotted a large piece of styrofoam down the beach and retrieved it. It was very bright white and my loony friend had an intense dislike of it. So much so that as soon as I approached, even very slowly, she decided to make a break for the water…never mind that she really couldn’t walk. With a burst of energy she pushed herself toward an oncoming wave, shot out a trail of poop and was out past the breakers before I could understand what just happened. She rescued herself with a little coaching from me. My guess is that with the rough water she was swept onshore while fishing inside the sand bar.

The last time I saw her she was frolicking (really…I’m NOT kidding) out past the breakers and taking a much-needed saltwater bath.

I suppose we all need a little encouragement to go for what we really long for sometimes. When and why do we take action? My suspicion is the fear of staying stuck becomes greater than the fear of leaping.

To all those awaiting a Universal sign to leap…..maybe today is the day!