Here's mine...

I took my 18 year-old nephew on his first canoe camping trip - it was late August, last year. A "there-and-back," we arrived on Pinetree day 1, traveled to Sylvia day 2, spent day 3 in camp, then made straight out day 4.

It was day 2 afternoon. We had finished setting up our site for the next day and a half and decided to take the canoe around the lake. It was bluebird weather. We were north of the campsite - in between it and Sylvia's little island when a red-tailed hawk alit on the tip of the most prominent of the black spruce that lined the shore. Boys will be boys - my nephew decided to attempt communication with the bird. "Hey!" he yelled. One Mississippi... two Mississippi... three Mississippi... "Hey!" was the reply which seemed to emanate from a location deep in the woods to the north. He turned back to look at me inquisitively, as if the old guy should have an answer. From what I recalled of my trip planning/"map poring" stage, there shouldn't be any "structure" that would produce an echo coming from that direction. "Do it again" I said. This time, nothing. The inquisitive look changed to confusion. But we had not stopped the canoe and were now at least 50 yards from where the original event occurred. Could there be that tight of a "sweet-spot" for an echo? "Do it again." This time the Mississippi count went up to 4 and the reply was an off-key "heEey!" Goosebumps. His look of confusion changed to fear and I was trying hard not to reciprocate. My thoughts turned to the possibility that there may be people messing with us - but there's nothing in that part of the park. Then, to my simultaneous relief and disbelief, two ravens come swooping out of the forest and fly directly over us. My nephew had succeed in his original endeavor, just with a different party. I knew ravens did this sort of thing - but I have never heard such a perfect mimic from them before.