Just about 45 miles away from where we were staying on Michigan’s Garden Peninsula is the gargantuan Seney National Wildlife Refuge. I’ve been wanting to go there for some time, but since it’s only open from May 15th to October 15th, I’ve always just missed that small window of visiting opportunity. But not today, Seney will not be missed, no sir, Seney will not be missed.

At the pond behind the nature center, we saw trumpeter swans and COMMON LOONS. Per the usual, the bugs were pretty fierce. We tried walking one of the trails that was supposed to be good for migrants, but the flies were biting, so back we went. We ended up birding pretty much entirely from the car, taking a driving loop through the marshes that was pretty spectacular. We saw lots more trumpeter swans (they’re a huge breeding success story at Seney) and lots more loons, as well as mother loons with their dark, fluffy babies on their backs. (If only my own mother had been as tender with me, I’d be a much nicer person.) And seeing so many loons, we got to hear their beautiful haunting calls. You really know you’re in the north woods when you hear a loon. And since they’re a barometer of how clean the water is, I felt as if I really was in an unspoiled wilderness, in Scrubb’s wilderness-spoiling SUV. (Well, what are you gonna do . . .)

Aside from the lovely loons, we saw a SPOTTED SANDPIPER, a SOLITARY SANDPIPER, and some time later, a BELTED KINGFISHER feeding fish to his mate as she sat on a tree. It was pretty quiet on the wildlife front, maybe because it was midday. The only lifer on this trip out was a COMMON SNIPE, but it was still cool because we got to see it in its winnowing courtship display flight, the wind making weird woo-woo noises through its feathers. We actually got out of the car for that one. We also got out of the car to see two beavers swimming, and then climbing up the banks. Scrubb got too close and scared them off.

The nicest part about Seney was actually being there. We were completely alone on these tiny dirt roads winding through these huge marshes, and the sky was a dark periwinkle shade that matched the water, and it always threatened to rain, but never did, and then the sun would come out, and the loon would cry. Do you remember? Can you forget it? All alone except for the loon, the sky, and the water?