The Encounter
It was 6:59 in the morning, and a small bay on Lake Wapogasset lay almost perfectly still. As the sun began to rise, the reflections on the water caught my attention. Greens, golds, and darker autumn tones shimmered across the surface, broken into patterns that reminded me of stained glass in a cathedral.
Then, quietly, an immature loon appeared.
It was alone, gliding slowly through the bay without urgency. As it passed through the reflected light, the colors shifted around it, and for a few moments the entire scene seemed composed rather than accidental—the young bird moving through a world of light and water as though it belonged perfectly within it.
Mikey was beside me, and even he seemed unusually still. Normally alert to every sound and movement around us, he appeared almost caught by the quiet beauty of the moment. For those few seconds, it felt as though the three of us—the loon, Mikey, and I—were simply sharing the stillness.
As the loon passed in front of me, it turned slightly in my direction. I cannot know what it saw or what, if anything, that glance meant. But in that instant, it seemed almost to give me a wink.
And somehow, I understood it as reassurance.
Nothing extraordinary happened that morning. There was no dramatic behavior, no struggle, no spectacle. There was only a quiet lake, the first light of day, a young loon passing through a cathedral made of reflections, and Mikey resting quietly at my side.
Yet those are often the moments I remember most.
Nature does not always teach through grandeur. Sometimes it offers something far gentler: a brief moment in which nothing needs to be changed, explained, or improved. A moment when the world simply seems complete as it is.
For a few seconds that September morning, as the young loon slipped silently past us, I had the unmistakable feeling that all was right with the world.
And perhaps, in that moment, it was.
- Location
- Lake Wapogasset, Amery, Wisconsin
- Date & Time
- September 7, 2024 · 6:59 a.m.
- Subject
- Immature common loon
- Camera
- Nikon Z9
- Lens
- NIKKOR Z 100–400mm f/4.5–5.6 VR S + Z TC-1.4x
- Focal Length
- 600mm
- Exposure
- 1/2000 sec · 0 EV
- Aperture & Sensitivity
- f/10 · ISO 800
A Quiet Lesson
We often look for reassurance in answers, certainty, or some sign that life is unfolding as it should.
But occasionally reassurance comes without words.
It comes as morning light on still water, a faithful companion resting quietly beside us, a solitary loon passing through reflected gold, and the sudden recognition that nothing is missing.
Sometimes peace is simply the moment in which we stop asking the world to be different from what it is.