It was a scene you might see in the opening frames of a movie.

The mist was thick coming off the water, and the sunrise peaking over the distant mountain painted the eastern sky a brilliant orange. Tall pines marked the edge of the pond, and a pair of loons silently floated on the mirror-like water.

Heather and I slowly paddled toward the loons but kept a respectable distance so as to not disturb their morning routine, which seemed to be not much more than sitting still on the water. Neither one of the loons made any of their iconic sounds, but the scene was still quintessential New England regardless.

As we paddled east toward the rising and slowly brightening sun, belted kingfishers on either side of the pond rattled simultaneously, creating a stereo effect among the din of birdsong that filled the morning air. Based on what we heard, common yellowthroats, Swainson’s thrushes, red-winged blackbirds and red-breasted nuthatches were the dominant songbirds hiding in the thick woods.