A Mid-summer Arctic Midnight with Yellow-billed Loons
by Bryce W. Robinson
For those that forget, it never gets dark in the arctic during summer. The result is a night full of spectacular light for photography, if the skies are clear.
A few days ago, my friend Heather found a pair of Yellow-billed Loons thirty miles south of Prudhoe Bay. I have been hoping for this particular loon ever since I arrived on the tundra, while keeping in mind that it was likely I would never see one. They prefer areas farther west, with more lakes and less oil workers. Like minds, I guess.
Lucky me, to have a friend like Heather, checking areas that I’ve been unable to make it to lately. I only have a week left here, so the loon’s timeliness cannot be overstated. My friends and I made some time last night to make a trip to the loons, hoping they stayed put for the day. In my mind, if I came away empty handed, the midnight sun would provide great photo opportunities with other birds as well.
Too bad the night was full of dramatic rain clouds, letting the sunlight through only in pieces. Too bad for photography, but not for my spirit. It was a perfect night, with near perfect temperatures, and loads of mosquitoes.
Anyway, the photography for the evening was a bust, but the loons were at the pond waiting for us! I’m not sure how to communicate my experience with the birds. Life birds, as birders term the first sight of a bird in their lifetime, can be the most incredible experience, but some leave you wanting. Some birds, for whatever reason, have been a bit anti-climactic for me. Not the Yellow-billed Loon. Perhaps the scenery contributed to the experience, but I must say that my first Yellow-billed Loons exceeded expectations.
The Yellow-billed Loon is in my top ten for the best life bird experiences I’ve had over my years of birding. The night smelled of tundra wildflowers and arctic rain. I laid myself on the edge of the pond for a spell of time, and filmed the birds. Today, my body itches from the hoards of mosquitoes that had their feast on my blood, but the experience was worth the itch. The birds forgot me, and soon drifted close, acting naturally, and providing me not only with some footage, but with a feeling of peace and joy in experiencing an emblematic life of the Arctic Coastal Plain.
Although the light was poor, I am very happy with the footage. I film these birds to share with those who love them as much as myself, but really I film them selfishly, to capture the moment so that I can watch them in years to come, and revisit the feeling of laying on the edge of a tundra pond, watching a pair of Yellow-billed Loons conduct their business.
Bryce,
I couldn’t see the video, it said “This video is private”.
But… your words painted the setting, the birds and the emotions for me. Some days (or nights) are magic.
Damn… I’ll see if I can work it out. Thanks Mia!
I could see the video this morning Bryce and loved it.
Those mosquitoes sounded like small helicopters!
Thanks Mia. My bites are still itching!
Really enjoyed the clip, made extra special by your narrative and the sounds of the mosquitoes added a little extra spice!
Your narrative brought back a somewhat similar loon experience for me – watching and listening to Common Loons on a wilderness lake in Northern BC (with the prerequisite mosquitoes, of course). That experience is still crisp in my memory and it was 30 years ago…
I can only imagine. N BC is a wonderful place. I was playing with the idea of cutting the audio, but then thought the mosquitoes would really capture the mood! They sure are a bit disruptive at the moment…
how do you keep your camara dry? the loons are pretty, they seem pretty big.
Well, at times I don’t keep the camera dry. But, when I am able, it fits under my rain jacket. The loons are very pretty, and yes, they are very large, for a loon.
It’s great to see these loons, and incredible to hear the mosquitoes – special footage.
Thank you Sonja. It was a treasured experience, despite the mossies.