The haunting call of the loon

These iconic birds have added magic to the soundscapes of Canada’s lakes for millions of years — but will we hear them forever?

The call of the loon is different. Wherever, whenever and however you happen to be reading this — on a crowded subway or home in bed, in a dentist’s office or on a beach, scrolling through your phone at work or waiting for a friend at a bar — if I asked you to remember the call of the loon, you could. The call of the loon endures. It is a sound like no other, and it lodges with us. Why? Why is the call of the loon so distinct from other birdsong, so fiercely memorable?

The endurance of the call of the loon in the mind is stranger when you consider that, unless you live by a lake or on an island on the West Coast, a loon cry is not a sound you hear every day. It is not, say, the song of a robin, which you might struggle to recall even though you’ve heard it every spring day your whole life. For people who live in cities — 82 per cent of Canada — a loon call is a sound they might hear, if they’re lucky, a few dozen times a year. Yet the sound palpably remains.

In February, the 5th International Marine Protected Areas Congress was hosted in Vancouver on Musqueam, Squamish and Tseil-Waututh territory. Here are seven highlights for the seven seas.

In early February, on the western shore of the longest coastline in the world, conservationists, Indigenous leaders, scientists, government officials and activists came together to push forward the global conversation on marine protected areas. The fifth International Marine Protected Areas Congress (IMPAC5) sought to bring diverse voices together to advance and achieve ocean conservation targets — including how we can protect 30 per cent of land and ocean by 2030, less than a decade away.

As rain pounded on the roof of the Vancouver Convention Centre right next to the sea, and mist obscured the water that everyone had travelled there to talk about, some of the world’s greatest ocean leaders came together to share ideas, celebrate progress, and make a plan for the future of ocean protection. Here are the key highlights you should know.

Plus: Honey bees love a puzzle and the efforts to save bison in Saskatoon, caribou in Jasper and spotted owls in B.C.

By Sarah Malina and Olivia Wiens

Cougars aren’t known for their love of water, but one young cougar from the Olympic Peninsula, Wash., has bucked that trend by taking a lengthy swim in the cold, orca-filled waters of the Salish Sea.

In late January, M161 — a cougar tracked by the Olympic Cougar Project in Washington — swam to an uninhabited island more than a kilometre off the coast of Puget Sound. This display of aquatic athleticism has provided wildlife ecologists with new insight into cougars’ capabilities and expanded the range of where cougars can feasibly live.

The Olympic Peninsula cougar population has the lowest genetic diversity and highest rates of inbreeding of all cougars in Washington due to their isolation from the mainland. As their gene pool shrinks, the population’s ability to adapt to changes in the ecosystem decreases, leaving the cougars more susceptible to threats such as disease. In response, the Olympic Cougar Project has been working to expand the home range of these cougars, and M161’s swim introduces new possibilities for accessible habitats.

Your experience in Alberta includes significant historic sites like dinosaur fossil beds and buffalo jumps. As we leave the multi-hued canyons and wind-sculpted hoodoos of the Canadian Badlands, we go along the foothills of the mountains into Waterton Lakes. While the landscapes are spectacular, remember to also keep your eyes open for the abundant wildlife including bighorn sheep, grizzly bears and bison recently reintroduced in Alberta.
Meet your ambassador

Check out these other upcoming trips:

- High Arctic Explorer with Joseph Frey
- Classic Dolomites with Marlis Butcher
- Patagonia Birds & Wildlife with Kim Gray