Everybodies got a story - Biosphere reserve story contest winners

Submitted by Frontenac Arch Biosphere | Jan 08, 2014

Loons Lost and Loons Found
by Ross Sutherland

We thought the new Mitchell Creek Bridge would be a disaster for the loons: and it was. But like all dark clouds the silver lining finally showed through.

Within a week of the bridge’s completion, someone had cleared fallen trees from the creek’s channel to facilitate faster, bigger, boats. Then the loons came, as they do every year. That year, however, the higher waves from the larger boats washed them off their nest. There were no chicks that season nor for the next four years.

Then a crack of light shone through in the form of a radio report on loon recovery. Humans were building floating platforms so that nests could ride over a boat’s wake. A quick internet search turned up a variety of clever raft designs from the rustic (four cedar logs nailed together) to the high tech (aluminum frames with a roof and ramps).

But would a nesting platform work on Mitchell Creek? All of the plans called for the rafts to be 30 meters from shore, which would put the nest somewhere in the woods, on the other side of the creek. Yet the loons had successfully nested on the creek for at least two decades, if not millennia. Luckily, they had not paid attention to our definition of a “best loon nesting site.”

Their chosen nesting location had been on top of a specific muskrat push-up in a marshy bay. The water here is a metre deep, not the three meters supposedly required for a loon nest. However, it is close to the only pool in the river which might make three metres of depth in a very wet spring. If it was good enough for the loons, it was good enough to try a loon raft.

As luck would have, felled cedars were among the leftovers from recently cleared hydro lines. A day’s work in the crisp fall air (one of the truly wonderful times near Frontenac Provincial Park) was all it took to build a sturdy cedar log square with a galvanized chicken wire bottom.

The platform was towed into place and canoes carried swamp muck, bulrush mats and motley native sedge cuttings to be packed between the logs. It was hard to imagine how all the pieces would survive the first good wind let alone attract any self-respecting loons.

The next spring the loons, ever hopeful, arrived on the creek. Then they were gone. But instead of disappearing they were on the nest. And they stayed. In the midst of one wild wind storm we watched the raft, with loon abroad, calmly riding the waves.

Near the end of June, after weeks of silence, we were woken in the middle of the night by loud, joyous loon calls. A 5:30 a.m. paddle found two tiny chicks bobbing in the water with their parents as the sun’s light broke through the trees on the eastern shore of Mitchell Creek.

Urban Hikers
by Kristin Mullin

Picture this: it’s a bright, October day in Westport. You are hiking a vibrant mountain covered in trees that are peppered with leaves of all colours. As you breathe in the crisp autumn air you can smell the change of seasons and hear the birds and small animals scurrying around. Your lungs welcome the burst of fresh air that replaces the grit and grime of stale city air. It’s so tranquil, a beautiful rustic setting – one that satisfies your need for peace during hectic days at home.

Picture this. It is a bright warm October day in Westport.

Now add a small child into the mix. Replace the nature sounds with squeals of delight as a toddler armed with boots, a hat, mitts and snacks takes the trail by storm and scans the forest for critters, determined to hug and kiss every single one. Then watch her burst into tears at the injustice of it all when they flee from her in terror (luckily toddlers are easily distracted and the area has a bountiful supply of forest creatures).

After relentlessly chasing the poor critters that call this area home my daughter and I lapped up all of the intense beauty that surrounded us. We raced up the hills and climbed what felt like hundreds of species of trees. We found mushrooms and caterpillars in the underbrush and took pictures of all kinds of interesting bugs. We were even fortunate enough to spot a young fox sunning itself on a rock.

As our hike concluded, we decided to head down to the Village of Westport for a snack at the Village bakery and reflect on all that we had seen and done. Our Foley Mountain adventure took twice as long as we had anticipated (mostly due to the activities mentioned above) but all-in-all it was a glorious afternoon and we have been itching to return ever since.

Being from the city, I am so thankful to live in this region and have access to so many beautiful sites where I can take my daughter to connect with nature. Thanks to experiences like this, she has a wonderful passion for the outdoors and a love of all nature.