"Look!" Kevin pointed just over my shoulder, where the juvenile loon had popped up moments before. Despite the dangers that still await this bird, they are lucky to have made it through the chick stage. A groundbreaking study from Birds Canada just reported that the number of chicks reaching six weeks of age has declined by an average of 40% across North America. There are many theories on what could be causing the decline in chick survival. There is hope, though. We can live and recreate with care around loons. We all can help make sure this loon doesn't get even more lonely.

Despite living in a time when perhaps only 20 pairs of cranes existed in Wisconsin, Aldo Leopold wrote eloquently of the cranes in the "Marshland Elegy" chapter of A Sand County Almanac. "When we hear his call we hear no mere bird. We hear the trumpet in the orchestra of evolution. He is the symbol of our untamable past, of that incredible sweep of millennia…"

Today, thousands of sandhill cranes converge near just this one expertly managed and protected wetland complex during fall migration. They spend their days fueling up for the long flight by gleaning waste grain from recently harvested corn and soybean fields nearby. Then, at dusk they rise from the fields and fly into the marsh, or at least that's the plan.

"Here is where the journey is," philosophized Doug Wood when I finally picked the book back up. "…why do I go through it? Because no one else can go through it for me." It's true. And I love going through the challenges of a canoe trip. Planning, paddling, portaging, wayfinding, camping, and even cleaning up once I'm back home all carry a satisfying amount of effort and reward. Plus, there are the sunsets.

I wonder, how do geese feel about their endless modes of misery?