The last few years have really tested my character as a person and left me plenty of reason to question things. I had taken a position of authority that had me dealing with difficult situations, battles that seemed to never end, trips inside a courtroom a couple times, police, loss of family members and hurtful words that have stayed with me longer than I expected ever would.
All of this has left me feeling a little off. Not lost exactly but not sure who I am again. Unsettled in my own skin.
What really matters? Where do I stand in the bigger picture of things? Even some of the things about myself that I thought I had already figured out. But isn’t that life? Ever changing?
So, as I often do when life gets a bit too noisy for my liking, I head out with my camera. Usually anywhere by water gives me the quiet I need and wildlife becomes the bonus.
I get to my launch area for my kayak where a frog hops out of the way, sits quietly while I get my stuff in order, making me smile as he finally hops into the lake, sort of like I was about to do. Note, his hopping was more graceful than my kayak entering!! At this point both of us were in our elements.
I was no sooner off the shoreline when the tranquility hit me like a ton of bricks. It was good. It was quiet. Nothing to figure out, to defend, explain or question. Silence, lake of glass, sun on my face. Just me, the water, camera, the quiet and of course loons.
This day along with events from the day before brought to mind a thought I think we often forget when life becomes over complicated: sometimes the desires of our hearts have next to nothing to do with the things we accomplish or own.
More often than naught, it is about the simple things that bring us joy. The things that make us stop and smile. The things that say, “This is where I am supposed to be.”
In a span of two days, the events of those days gave me those moments and made me realize just how much I needed them.
As I continue to paddle, I see one of the loons. Not uncommon for them to start splitting up once in a while at this stage in the young loons life.
As I get closer, a few calls go out saying, “She is here.” I get closer to the first loon and suddenly I can see the other adult loon.
But wait! My heart drops.
Don’t tell me you lost the little one??
No sooner had I said that when the little puff ball came out from behind the parent.
Relief and joy as I laugh. Both at the fact that I am talking out loud to a loon and excited that they are still parents. A little too invested perhaps?!?
I settle in to watch them. Parents keeping an eye on me, me on them. Meanwhile the loonlet is showing off his ability to get some of his own grub, stay under water longer and his balance is so much better when he beats those wings.
I am snapping away at both the parents and the young one. Then, something begins to happen. The young one starts preening away.
My whole system turns to mush. Watching a tiny loon take on the task of caring for every feather, working the oil through and then putting all the feathers back in place, was absolutely amazing and fascinating.
Growing up way too fast, well, for my liking anyhow.
I love watching loons partake in this process. It is an intimate, vulnerable, natural moment and I get to witness it.
The best part is earlier on this day I shared an image of a mature loon doing the exact same thing. I was up at my camp where I had the opportunity to experience the same thing with a mature loon. I stated that no matter how much I love seeing the baby loon, watching a mature loon preen is always top notch on my experience with loons, mostly because it ends with a beautiful spreading of the wings, a few flaps and everything back to normal.
I came to this lake the next day for baby time and never in my mind did it occur to me I would see the loonlet do a full on routine. Mind blown. I now have seen it in two completely different ways and well, both are worth experiencing over and over again in my mind.
Oh and it too ended with a full wing spread!
Yes, I did again speak out loud to this family, thanking them for their time and trust.
But as I paddled back to the launch area, it hit me.
I feel my best; experience life at the fullest when I am out in the midst of nature.
Watching.
Photographing.
Documenting.
Learning.
Being quiet.
Being present.
Just being.
This is what matters to me. This makes me happy. I feel whole.
Mind blowing fun.
Something else crossed my mind as I was paddling back. There is a concept I had heard before of God giving us the desires of our hearts. I pondered that before as being things we want to have, perhaps even possessions. Maybe it is simpler than that.
I have had encounters with so many different things during my photography days that should not make sense. Maybe it is those simple treasures, the things that speak directly to who we are. A mature loon one day, a loonlet the next. Both doing what I love the most from a loon.
Figuring out who we are, who I am, maybe does not have to happen over night. Maybe some of the answers come quietly, in the small miracles that fill our heart and remind us of where we belong.
As I get back to shore, I watch 2 frogs this time hop across the shore and into the lake.
Apparently the frogs were there to remind me I may not have the answers yet as they gracefully disappear into the lake again leaving me to struggle my way out of the kayak!
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