My mom mentioned a pair of loons had visited just off our dock Thursday. While not unusual –our end of the lake has some nice fishing, though I’m not supposed to talk about that — I hadn’t seen a pair in a few weeks, just one individual on and off.

So on my way to work, I swung into the boat launch area on the hope they might still be around. Near where the road meets the lake and bends right, I could see a single loon floating not far from shore. Then it became clear from the silhouette it was not, in fact, alone but had a passenger.

Never have I been so thankful for having invested in a good, high-powered lens. A few early photos confirmed what I’m sure is the first loon chick on Six Mile Lake in at least a decade.

I got some closer photos down the road but backed off when the other adult appeared and gave a few calls, though neither seemed truly alarmed. Still, best to give them space and not stress them out.

Those who follow the column know I’ve written almost annually about getting my hopes up in spring that lingering loons might nest on Six Mile Lake, something my parents regularly saw in the 2000s but seemed to cease by the time I moved to the Upper Peninsula in December 2015.

Some years had pairs exhibit courtship behavior and appear to scrutinize the shorelines as if sizing up choice nesting sites. Yet even though loons would remain through the summer, none by June had chicks riding on their backs, as is the habit in the early days after hatching.

Until now.

Bill Scullon, the Michigan Department of Natural Resources field operations manager for the Upper Peninsula, offered some possible explanations last year for the lack of loon nesting at Six Mile Lake.

Loons tend to return to sites where they’ve successfully reared young before, so perhaps something happened to the pair that once nested at the lake, he said.

Earlier nesting attempts, too, might have been thwarted by predation or eggs being washed out by a heavy rain or other factors. Loons have legs placed far back — an aid in diving and pursuing fish, but the trade-off is they can’t walk or take off on land. So they must nest close to the water line, which makes them vulnerable if water levels suddenly rise. Even wakes from passing boats or other watercraft, especially high-powered types, can swamp their low-lying nests.

Loons also don’t start breeding until they reach age 5 or later, with females usually older than males, according to the National Loon Center website, https://www.nationallooncenter.org, citing studies done in Wisconsin and New England. Young males and females typically spend at least two years looking for a territory, too, before settling.

So maybe it’s just taken some time for this pair to reach the age where it all came together.

Males, for some still-undetermined reason, will choose the nesting site, though both will share in incubating what typically are one to two eggs over 26 to 31 days, according to the Crosslake, Minnesota-based National Loon Center. Chicks can swim right away but spend time riding on a parent’s back to rest, conserve heat and avoid predators.

Several websites on loons stressed that humans keep their distance. Now that this pair has a chick, boaters and kayakers on Six Mile Lake should keep an eye out for them and ideally stay at least 150 feet away, according to the Loon Preservation Committee, https://loon.org. If the loons swim away, do not pursue, even in a non-motorized watercraft. Here a loud yodel? That’s the male vocalizing in defense of territory and chicks, the National Loon Center advises. That haunting tremolo cry? It’s an alarm call when the threat is too close. In general, if the adults begin making noise, best to move on.

Humans for now can best help these new parents by not providing distractions or making them waste energy trying to get their chick away from perceived danger.

The chick should fledge and become independent at about 10 to 12 weeks old, which will make the adults relax a little. By the end of summer, the adults might very well leave Six Mile Lake for their wintering areas while the chick remains into fall, loon experts advise.

If this nesting attempt proves successful and the chick survives, the loons are likely to return in subsequent years, Scullon said last year. With loons living a couple of decades or more — the oldest at Seney National Wildlife Refuge is thought to be at least 39 this year — it could set Six Mile Lake back on track for regularly having loon chicks each summer.

Betsy Bloom can be reached at 906-774-2772, ext. 85240, or bbloom@ironmountaindailynews.com.