After breakfast I want to show Greg the lake. It is late in the morning. More people have put in boats. The sun is on the lake where we stand to decide our day. We can walk the loop around Lightning Lake. No, that will be in the shadow, Greg wants to be in the sunlight. Let’s go this way I say, we can go to the bridge. Not if its in the shadow, Greg says.
Along the trail there are patches of shade, there is grumbling along the way. We go beyond Rainbow Bridge where there are spots of sun. Greg wants only to be in the sun. He stops by a boulder on the shore and falls asleep. I walk further watching the shore and Greg, then turn back to join him. Around his boulder are plants, small seeds of sedge and lupine, and tiny birds that come to eat.
Suddenly there is a piercing sound almost like a coyote in the distance. It fills the woods with its call, startling me from my study of flora and fauna. It collapses back into silence. There it is again, this time the mind memory of the loon, the unforgettable voice of the loon. Across the lake it glides along the water, stretches its neck to call again.
hear the sound of a loon
that calls to its mate
waking the dawn
Lightning Lake is in the E.C. Manning Provincial Park in British Columbia.