Saturday, 23 March 2013

Birds of the feather

We were out doing morning chores when a high (but not screechy) whistle, I am not exactly on-par with bird sound description, filled the oddly quiet morning air. It was quite musical even thought in the moment I went off on a tangent about how it sounded like those little Compsognathus (yes, I needed to look that up) dinosaurs in Jurassic Park.

After scanning the sky Mom and I noticed a large eagle perched alone in the tangle of our oak tree branches. He was joined by what we consider a "bald eagle" because he had the white feathered head. The first eagle only had mottled brown feathers and so did the third the joined soon after.

During this time of year having an eagle soar over our barns is a regular occurrence and maybe having two or three in a tree (which, for any bird enthusiasts is called a convocation) is what we consider normal.

But every time an eagle glides across the sky, one thousand feet up or only three hundred I always stop it my tracks. It is something about that large wingspan, the calming circles they make in the skies and about having that vast blue canvas all to your flying leisure which leaves me in awe.

Last summer a relative passed away and although she lived a relatively long life it was still of course much too soon. However, her service was truly a celebration of a life lovingly lived. What moved me most was the conclusion of her eulogy, which was something she often said herself:

I came to Canada on the wings of an air plane and I will leave on the wings of an eagle.

Whatever wonderful things you get up to this weekend I hope your soar!