If you're a bird that floats on the water waiting to plunge down and swim after tasty little fishes (tasty to a loon at least), then a frigid lake covered by three feet of blue ice isn't your idea of a dreamy place to spend the winter.

So it's only common sense that the summer icons of our lakes are not found on lakes as winter takes hold. Obviously, not unlike warblers and certain other birds, they must migrate.

However, before you picture loons passing the winter months lounging in the tropics with our summer songbirds, you might want to think about a closer-by resource full of water and fish. The same loons you might see on the open waters of Echo Lake, Maranacook, North Pond or any other lake are likely to be found along our coast this winter. Thursday morning, while driving across the river in Damariscotta, my co-worker Phil and I saw four wintering loons.

Late every fall, loons change their plumage (feathers) and take up residence alongside bell buoys and lobster boats. The birds lose their striking black and white pattern and instead don plumage described this way by Cornell University: "Upperparts gray to gray-brown. Underparts and throat white. Irregular border of dark and light along neck. Wedge of white extending from throat to back of neck. White crescents around eye. Bill silvery-gray with black upper edge. Eyes dark."

As mentioned in the opening sentence, loons are piscivorous (fish eating). During their winter maritime residence, they still need to eat. Research cited by the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) lists winter foods as including flounder, rock cod, menhaden, salmonids, sculpin and crabs.

I know from a conversation with Florida Power & Light biologist and loon expert Bill Hanson, who has observed loons feeding on crabs along the rockweed margin of our coastline. Other research referenced again by the USGS has found that loons typically did not use waters deeper than 60 feet or further than 60 miles from shore, and they tend to feed in the top 15 feet of water.

Though loons may look somewhat awkward taking off and landing, they are strong fliers. The USGS reports that loons in Minnesota and Wisconsin flew from 1,171 to 1,318 miles during migration. Satellite tracking has shown that one loon traveled 572 miles during a three-day period. These relatively heavy birds can travel far and fast, if need be.

I say "if need be" because our Maine loons don't need to travel thousands of miles. The proximity of quality summer lake territories to wintering habitat makes Maine a "loony" state all year long. To look at the migration patterns of loons from Lake Umbagog, on the New Hampshire border, check out www.loon.org/loon_migrations.swf. This Web site graphically depicts the movements of several loons tracked with radio transmitters. It shows that one of the two birds from Umbagog winters in eastern Penobscot Bay while the other resides near the Popham Beach area.

Loons are an old species and have, as a species, figured out life history strategies that work. Wintering along the coast has definite advantages, but it has some risk as well. Oil spills are not the leading cause of mortality for loons (for instance, Tufts University, whose veterinary program has studied loon deaths since 1987, estimates that only five percent of juvenile loon die from oil spills).

Still, marine oil spills do threaten loons in winter (and in summer, for juveniles who stay on the coast). Phil Mulville, a co-worker at the Maine Lakes Conservancy Institute, previously worked on coastal education in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. In 2003, he assisted with bird rescues after an oil spill in Buzzard's Bay. He shares that he collected a number of common loons who were caught in the spill's oil slick. Unlike the oil-caked shore birds such as dowitchers, willets, and sanderlings, he could easily identify the loons, even when they were covered in black oil.

Unfortunately, only a small minority of the birds survived the spill, which occurred in April, before many lakes were open.

This winter, if you're longing for loons, check our coastal waters. Watching silent, drab loons floating offshore on an icy afternoon may not be the same as listening to yodels on a warm summer night, but seeing them is still exciting. Plus, they're a reminder to all of those who don't prefer winter that summer may be far off, but at least the loons are nearby, just waiting for the ice to melt come spring.

Rex Turner is the Director of Education for the Maine Lakes Conservancy Institute and resides in Augusta. E-mail: rturner@mlci.org.