Two loons waddle into a saloon. One of them is loonier than the other. The chick behind the bar announces last call, so the loonier of the loons gives its characteristic croon, but slightly out-of-tune, so thinks the other loon. This is ridiculous! Everyone knows that a loon is never out-of-tune and always drinks alone. There wasn't a saloon in sight but I saw a pair of loons the other day at about 7 o'clock in the morning. No saloon would be open then anyway. It was windy and it was Stygian, half past crepuscular, but I still noticed a loony presence. I was at a sort of inlet at a lake about the size of a over-regulation sized football field, but flooded, and with reeds where the fans should be, but just as high, and there they were like mascots zig-zagging back and forth. As I watched them I noticed that they gradually headed toward the mouth of the inlet, which was much narrower than the body of the inlet. So, rule #17 (b) came into play. I headed for the isthmus and waited for them to pass through it. Then I was hit with a terrible thought. What if they both dived while passing through the isthmus? What would I do then? Walk back to the car, get out of the wind and scream? Fortunately I packed my nonchalance. Besides, only one loon went under cover and the other cruised through like a corvette. I was thinking of the movie Police Academy at the time and was disappointed that I couldn't summon a claxon alert but I'm not good at that sort of thing. But despite the wind, the dismal light, the embankment that oozed of calamity, I still managed to get a photo.
Common Loon
( 420mm f5.6 )
