From just above the ridge, the tremolo call of a loon. I rush to the edge of the porch and scan the lake-blue fissures between the clouds.
1 Comment
Comments are closed.
Previous Post: Previous Post
Next Post: Next Post
From just above the ridge, the tremolo call of a loon. I rush to the edge of the porch and scan the lake-blue fissures between the clouds.
Comments are closed.
Permalink
“Often given as a flight call, when approaching, leaving, or flying over a lake. The precise meaning of this call is not understood,” says the Journey North website. No lake near here.