Down by the Sea: Mother Nature's Gliders

                I’m telling you the truth. You can watch the wonderful documentaries, and look at all the beautiful photos that you want. They’re all fantastic and I recommend you explore them thoroughly.

                But nothing - - and I DO mean nothing - - can compare to the heart-stopping, breath taking experience of standing a the edge of a heavy wood and watching the mighty bald eagle burst out from the branches and soar and swoop right before your very eyes.

                The word “majestic” has been wildly overused in describing these birds, yet somehow there remains no better choice. Their beauty lies not just in their great size or striking colors, although it’s certainly there, too. There’s just something about the power and grace with which they glide through the sky that makes you just know you need to stop and take a minute to admire and appreciate this creature.

                I was very lucky to be allowed such an experience during my visit to the ocean this summer. I had the opportunity to spend several days in a wee, little seaside fishing village set far apart from any place that could be called a city. Miles of untouched wilderness surrounded the village in every direction providing lots of home for the eagles. They need plenty of room to move, after all.

                On our first morning there, one relative announced that she was going down to feed the eagles. It happened to be fishing season, just as we arrived, so the smoke house was going full steam. But they don’t believe in waste in the village, so when they’ve cleaned and prepared the fish, it’s their habit to take the parts they don’t use and toss them back to Mother Nature, to be consumed by whatever creature can use them.

                We watched from the deck as our relative marched down to the rocky shore and tossed strip after strip of salmon leavings high in the air and on to the ground. She had a big sack of them, so by the time she got back to the house, the beach was speckled with fish bits.

                We waited eagerly for the show to begin. We thought it should be a once in a lifetime spectacle! Cameras and binoculars were more than at the ready.

                But the shore remained quiet. A number of seagulls swooped down and grabbed some meat. Eventually, a single young eagle landed on the shore a grabbed a piece. Then, quiet.

                Ah well. We tried, right? Just not the day for it I suppose.

                Later, as the sun began to set and the warm summer air began to cool, we were all back at the house after a wonderful day of adventuring and exploring. Now we sat back and relaxed. We’d lose ourselves in some good books while the last of the sunlight twinkled out.

                “Hey!” Someone shouted, “Come look at the birds now!”

                I rushed out on deck and - - holy cow! The eagles were absolutely everywhere! They were swooping overhead in and out of the trees. They were sitting on branches and rocks and logs. And just tons of them were on the shore right near the water, crying out to one another and picking choice chunks of salmon. Like all wildlife, they’re notoriously difficult to count in large groups due to their insistence on continually moving around, but at one point I was sure I counted at least 20.

                I don’t know how long we spent on that deck watching the feast, but it wasn’t nearly long enough.

                The next morning, I stepped out on the deck again into the bright morning light and looked down at the empty, clean beach.

                Whatever fish the eagles hadn’t taken, Mother Nature had washed away with her tides.