The Call of the Loon
There are some sounds that never really leave you. For me, it’s the call of a loon. Long before Florida became home, many chapters of my life were written on the lakes of Wisconsin and Minnesota. Dawn often arrived with a cool layer of mist drifting across the water, and somewhere in the distance a loon would call. There was always something hauntingly beautiful about it. Quiet enough to make you stop what you were doing and simply listen. I’ll never forget watching one glide beneath our canoe in the clear water of the Boundary Waters. Even underwater, those bold black and white feathers were unmistakable. Moments like that stay with you. High speed/ time lapse version: Full length feature film (15 min lol) As I worked on this drawing today, I found myself thinking about those lakes, the people I shared them with, and how certain memories seem to grow more meaningful with time. A single bird can carry an entire chapter of your life. This one is for those quiet morni...