JUNE 29, 2020 – Time for (another) time-out from the headlines . . . and expletives. Time to re-engage with nature to remind ourselves that forces greater than ourselves are in control. The pandemic should’ve told us, but way too many folks still think it’s a Democratic hoax.
So, back to nature . . .
It’s not always enough simply to walk in it. To get the full view, sometimes you need to sit in it. That’s what my wife and I did over the weekend. For long stretches, we sat on the porch of the Red Cabin; on our dock; on our friends’ pontoon boat; atop the steep bank in front of our family’s old cabin down the shore—all surrounded by “nature” at its boldest.
Sit and watch long enough and you’ll see amazing phenomena.
Take, for example, the bald eagle. Once an imperiled species, this bird is now commonplace in our neck of the woods. A whole fleet of them hang out in the pine along our shore and soar overhead and out over the lake.
This past weekend they were particularly active—and close-up. Once, just as I’d stepped out onto our dock, an adult eagle swooped by not 10 feet over my head and down the shoreline. It was a sight to be seen, if not captured—not on camera, at least, because it happened too fast.
Twice from the dock we saw an eagle catch its dinner; once a full adult (white head, yellow beak), the second, an immature eagle—the full size of an adult (a six-foot wingspan) but with mottled feathers and still-brown head and beak. First the bird floats in a large circle over the target area. Then, descending quickly, the eagle lowers its “landing gear”—a set of talons that look like grappling hooks attached to legs thickly insulated by lots of small feathers. As the eagle approaches the water, wings move powerfully for control. Grappling hooks touch the water, snatch a fish, and retract immediately as the eagle beats its wings for a quick getaway. Those grappling hooks, we learned, are equipped with a rachet-like mechanism that allows the eagle to hold its prey effortlessly as it flies back to “base”—a sentinel white pine 100 feet from our dock.
Upon seeing the first eagle hide among the branches of that pine, I wondered how the bird with catch “in hand” lands on a stout branch. The second eagle gave the answer. As it ascended off the water, I saw it transfer—in a nano-second—the sizable fish from talons to beak!
We later saw two eagles perform a form of combination ballet/kick-boxing in mid-air. Toward dusk we again found ourselves sitting on the end of the dock observing nature around us. The birds approached from opposing directions over the corner of the lake 200 yards away. Despite having ample space, they decided to tangle. But why? Our bird books couldn’t answer.
Perhaps by their incessant chatter—resembling monkeys in a jungle—the eagles are now telling us.
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© 2020 by Eric Nilsson
