To hear the mournful call of the loon on Lake Bellaire in Michigan makes 17 hours of travel worth every bit of it. Something about that haunting wail evokes the beauty of a wilderness I rarely encounter. It's a sound that seems to rise and fall out of mist, casting a spell on those who hear.
How lucky I am to have heard its call once again.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I'm so glad you heard it. I don't think I ever have.
ReplyDelete